Double Emnity
by RFK
Summary: An old enemy with designs for the Staff of Aingeal returns to make trouble for Cole and Olivia. AU Season Six. Set after "Weekend in Carmel". COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

"**DOUBLE EMNITY"**

_AUTHOR: RFK SERIES: CHA RATING: R - Violence, adult language and sexual situations._

_SUMMARY: An old enemy with designs for the Staff of Aingeal returns to make trouble for Cole and Olivia. AU Season Six. Set after "Weekend in Carmel._

_FEEDBACK: - Be my guest. But please, be kind._

_DISCLAIMER: Cole Turner, The Charmed Ones, Chris Halliwell, and Darryl Morris belong to Constance Burge, Brad Kern and Spelling Productions. Olivia McNeill Turner, the McNeills, Artemus, Prax and Cirhan are thankfully, my creations._

_NOTE: This story is a follow-up to "Staff of Fire". Spoilers also include from the story, "Torn Duty" and the Season 6 episode, "I Dream of Phoebe"._

**"DOUBLE EMNITY"**

_Prologue_

_**San Francisco, California**_

The pale blond-haired man came to a stop next to the water cooler inside one of the seventeenth floor offices of the Magan Corporation. Just as he leaned forward to fill a small paper cup with water, he spied two men emerging from an elevator.

The neat suits that the two visitors wore allowed the blond man to immediately surmise that they were not attorneys or businessmen. Quite frankly, the pair's clothing looked as if it had been purchased off the rack, instead of personally tailored. This told the blond man that the visitors were not typical kind that usually appeared in this office.

At last, the blond man thought. Something worthwhile to investigate. During his past three weeks of employment with the Magan Corporation, Byran Deighton aka Cirhan thought he would never stumble across anything of interest to investigate. He had spotted a member of the Khorne Order every now and then. Fortunately, none of them had recognized him. Yet. Cirhan had even seen Prax, a daemon who had once been assistant to the Khorne Order's former leader,Artemus, until the latter ended up banished to the Stygian Abyss by the old Source. But these sightings had not been worth reporting to the Gimle Order.

Cirhan's mentor from the Gimle Order, Marbus, had given him the task of spying on the Magan Corporation. Ever since the older daemon's nephew, the half-mortal Belthazor, had discovered a connection between the Magan Corporation and the Khorne Order, Cirhan's superiors have been interested in the evil order's activities. In reality, that interest first began with the Khorne Order's attempt to manipulate the Charmed Ones into killing Marbus, who also happened to be a member of the Gimle Order's Council. Then other events followed. The Khorne Order tried to destroy the Whitelighters Realm. Just over two months ago, the evil order nearly got its hands on the Sword of Halane √ a magical object that belonged to another Gimle Order council member. Following the last incident, Marbus ordered Cirhan to seek employment with the Magan Corporation and learn its secrets.

Cirhan swallowed the water in one long gulp. Being inconspicuous as he possibly could, the daemon returned to his desk and opened one drawer. Inside laid an object shaped like a small black tube. It happened to be a small, Chinese miniature camera that had been given to him by Marbus. Cirhan dismissed the use of a camera as nonsense from a James Bond movie, until Marbus insisted that he use it.

To ensure that he would not attract unwanted attention, Cirhan quietly aimed the camera's lens at the two visitors and snapped an image. Several minutes passed before a third person emerged from another elevator. Cirhan recognized the figure as a named Cedric Lloyd, one of the corporation's top attorneys. Once more, the daemon aimed his small camera. He snapped a photograph of Lloyd greeting the not-so well-dressed visitors. Then he quickly shoved the camera back inside his desk and tried to look as serene as possible.

------

_**Manhattan, New York Alternate Dimension**_

The door to the three-bedroom condominium slammed shut, causing Olivia McNeill to glance up. She set aside the bottle of Dragon's Blood, wiped her hands and left the kitchen. "What the hell?" she demanded. The redhead saw her live-in lover march toward the liquor cabinet. She frowned. "Cole?"

The dark-haired half-daemon shot her a grim smile. "Olivia. You want a drink? I was about to prepare one for myself."

"No thanks." Noting the grim expression on Cole's face, she sighed. "Okay lover, what is the problem now?"

Holding a glass of bourbon, Cole replied caustically, "What do you think . . . is the problem? Her. I was forced to spend the afternoon with that damn bitch, again. For the first time in over two months, I ran out of excuses to avoid fucking her." He sighed, before taking another swig of bourbon. "If only you had your hands on that staff," Cole added, "we wouldn't be in this mess. Hell, the entire Source's Realm wouldn't be."

Olivia could do nothing but grimace at the memory of her failure to acquire the Aingeal Staff, last summer. About a week after her distant cousin, Keith McNeill had passed away, her second psi ability manifested - pyrokinesis. It was Cole who informed her about the legend behind the Aingeal Staff and how only McNeill pyrokinetics were the only ones qualified to wield its power. Aside from herself, only two other McNeills had recently manifested a fire ability - Dennis McNeill and Fiona McNeill Craig. According to a warlock, both had failed to win possession of the staff. Which led Olivia to conclude that she had been destined to become the staff's new bearer. Only her self-righteous family had ensured that she would never possess it.

A month following her discovery of Cousins Fiona and Dennis' failures to possess the staff, Olivia came up with the idea to steal it from an alternate dimension. Using an amulet she had acquired from the Anduin Marketplace, Olivia planned to travel to an alternate dimension and replace her double before the Aingeal Staff ceremony. The scheme almost worked. But it ended in failure due to a group of fellow warlocks she had hired to kidnap the other Olivia McNeill . . . and the intervention of her mother, Cecile Dubois, Cousin Jamie McNeill and one of the Charmed Ones.

"I don't suppose you could make another attempt to steal the staff from an alternate dimension, could you?" Cole pleaded.

Olivia sighed. Cole must be truly desperate to make such a demand. And to be honest, she felt an inclination for another attempt to acquire the staff. If only she knew of the staff's whereabouts in this dimension. Olivia glanced at the kitchen. She had been in the midst of preparing a vanquishing potion . . . for Cole's next meeting with the Source. Only she had little assurance of its success than she did of making another attempt to get the Aingeal Staff. "All right," she said. "I'll do it."

Relief gleamed from Cole's blue eyes. "If you need any help, I'll be more than happy to accompany you," he added.

"No," Olivia replied with a shake of her head. "It's not necessary. In fact, I don't think it's a good idea. Especially with the . . . "Source" maintaining a close eye on you." She reached out and unfastened one of the buttons to Cole's brandy-colored shirt and planted a light kiss on the exposed patch of skin. "We don't want them aware of what we're up to, do we?" She kissed his chest, again.

Cole inhaled sharply. "No, we don't." He paused, while Olivia unfastened the remaining buttons on his shirt. "Do you have any idea which dimension you plan to visit?"

Olivia raised her lips from Cole's chest. She recalled her trip to Scotland, last June. "Yeah, I have a pretty good idea. Only this time, I'll be making a visit to San Francisco."

_End of Prologue_


	2. Chapter 1

**"DOUBLE EMNITY"**

_Chapter 1_

_**San Francisco, California**_

Inside one of San Francisco's police precincts, Olivia McNeill Turner sat behind her desk, as she faced the Department of Motor Vehicle website on her computer screen. Two days ago, the body of a local dentist had been found inside his office, stabbed through the heart. A building custodian had spotted a car driving away, several minutes after the dentist's death. Fortunately, the custodian managed a glimpse of the car's license plate.

A slight cough interrupted Olivia from her work. To her surprise, she found the Halliwells' whitelighter, Chris Perry, hovering near her desk. She frowned. "Chris? What are you doing here?"

"I'm came to see you," the young man replied. Last November, the Halliwells and the McNeills had discovered that Chris happened to be half-whitelighter and half-mortal. His mortal parent also happened to be a witch. "I . . . uh, have a problem."

Olivia instructed Chris to sit down. Once he settled in the chair next to her desk, she asked, "So, what is on your mind?"

"I need a favor," Chris continued. "You see . . . Phoebe is becoming . . . well, actually she's already found out."

One of Olivia's red eyebrows formed a questioning arch. "Found out about what?"

A sigh left Chris' mouth. "Phoebe found out the truth about my background. And I need her memory erased."

Olivia shrugged. "Why don't you use some of that memory dust that the Halliwells have?"

"Unreliable."

"And what exactly do you consider reliable?"

Chris hesitated, as he glanced uneasily around him. Then he leaned forward and murmured, "Cole. Or more accurately, his telepathic suggestion power."

_Oh God._ Olivia leaned back into her chair and closed her eyes. She could easily imagine the emotional fallout if the Halliwells ever learned that Cole had manipulated Phoebe's memories. Nor could she see her husband ever agreeing to such an act. She sighed. "Chris, I hate to tell you but I believe you might have to deal with Phoebe knowing about your identity." She frowned. "I'm curious. Since Cole and I know that you're Piper and Leo's son, do you have similar plans for us?"

Deep blue eyes that reminded Olivia of her former whitelighter blinked several times. Then Chris stared at Olivia in shock. "How did you . . . I mean . . . how did you know about . . . my secret?"

"One only has to look at you," Olivia answered. "You've got the Halliwells' looks, which made me suspect that one of the sisters might be your mother. But you also have Leo's eyes." Olivia shrugged. "After that it was not difficult for Cole and me to guess that Piper was your mom."

This time it became Chris' turn to sigh. "Great! Now three of you know. What am I going to do?"

"Tell the truth," Olivia suggested. "If Phoebe knows, your secret won't remain one."

A despairing moan left Chris' mouth. "I suppose you're right."

Olivia glanced at the clock on the precinct wall. "Listen, it's almost time for lunch. And I'm supposed to meet Barbara at Morgan's. Why don't you join us?"

Chris frowned. "What about Cole? Don't you usually have lunch with him?"

"Are you kidding? Every day?" Olivia scoffed at the idea. "Get serious, Chris. Cole and I usually have breakfast and dinner together, every day. We need some time apart from each other. Besides, I believe he's having lunch with a client, today."

"Okay, but I'm a vegan."

Olivia replied, "Don't worry. Morgan's should have something on their menu for you." She stood up and removed her suede jacket from the coat rack. "Let's go."

Minutes later, the pair left the precinct.

-----------

Phoebe Halliwell regarded the Greek salad in front of her with a jaundice eye. "I don't know why I had let you talk me into coming here," she said to her lunch companion. "The food here is awful."

"Really?" The auburn-haired Samantha Ratner frowned at her dish - a pair of Maryland-style crab cakes with Peppercorn Sauce. "My food is pretty good. Perhaps this place doesn't make good Greek salads."

With a grunt, Phoebe muttered, "It would if Piper had still been managing this place." Her eyes scanned Quake's dining room. In the four-and-a-half years since Piper's departure, Quake had experienced many changes. The menu had changed . . . of course. The waiters wore more formal uniforms that included a tight black jacket. And the dining room's decor seemed to have lost its subtle elegance. It now seemed more formal. And pretentious. It seemed to Phoebe that Quake's current owner seemed bent upon aping some of the city's more prestigious restaurants.

Samantha, a fellow columnist at THE BAY-MIRROR, had invited Phoebe for lunch at Quake. Although the Charmed One had a good deal of work to finish, her curiosity over Quake's present appearance led her to accept Samantha's invitation.

"Why don't you ask the waiter to take back the salad?" Samantha suggestion.

Phoebe sighed. I would still have to pay for it," she bemoaned. Another sigh left her mouth. "Never mind. I'll just go ahead and finish it. Just remind me never to order a Greek salad if we ever come here, again."

Three figures entered the restaurant. Phoebe recognized two of them - Harry McNeill's former girlfriend, Janet Hui . . . and Cole. The dark-haired woman who accompanied them looked very familiar. "Sam," she said to her companion, "who is that woman? She looks familiar."

Samantha turned to stare at the newcomers. "I see two women with your ex . . . oh."

"What?"

Samantha continued, "The dark-haired woman. The one who isn't Asian-American. That's Toby Macmillan's widow. Holly Macmillan. You know, the one who was recently charged with his murder."

Stunned by Samantha's revelation, Phoebe continued to stare at Cole and Janet's companion. "Oh my God! Of course!" She had met the McMillans on several occasions, while dating Jason Dean. Phoebe also recalled that Tobias Macmillan had been one of San Francisco's biggest philanthropists. Five weeks ago, someone had slipped a rare poison into Macmillan's morning coffee. Four hours later, the billionaire died of a massive heart attack in the middle of an afternoon business meeting. "Why is that woman having lunch with Cole?"

Samantha rolled her eyes. "Phoebe, your ex-husband is an attorney. Do the math!"

Phoebe opened her eyes to retort, when the realization of Samantha's words hit her. "Oh my God!" she softly exclaimed. "I can't believe that Cole . . ."

"Would do what? Defend Holly McMillan?" Samantha shrugged her shoulders. "Why not? She can afford him."

"Tobias Macmillan was a good man!" Phoebe declared emotionally. "He was practically San Francisco's own Mother Teresa. As far as I'm concerned, the person who killed him should spend the rest of her life behind bars!"

Both of Samantha's brows rose questioningly. "Her? Don't you mean _'his or her'_ life behind bars, Phoebe? You know the old saying – 'innocent unless proven guilty'."

Phoebe stared grimly at Cole's dark-haired new client. "Holly Macmillan? Innocent?" She snorted derisively. "Please!"

---------

Chris and Olivia returned to the police station, following their lunch at Morgan's. Barbara, who had joined them, followed the pair inside. "Thanks for the lunch," the young whiteligher said, as the trio strode down the second-floor corridor. "But about that favor . . ."

"What favor?" Barbara asked.

Wearing a sardonic smile, Olivia shook her head. "You don't give up, do you Chris? I swear you're just as stubborn as your dad."

Again, Barbara asked, "What favor? And who exactly is Chris' dad?"

Both Chris and Olivia paused, before the former murmured, "Leo. And Piper is my mother."

"_WHAT?"_ Barbara's eyes grew wide.

"Chris is Piper and Leo's second son," Olivia explained. "And Wyatt's younger brother. That's why he's here in the past. To save his family." She turned to Chris. "And as for your favor, the answer is still no." She paused in front of a water fountain. "Look Chris, we all realize that you're here to change the future. But you won't be able to do it without your family's help. And since Phoebe, Cole, myself and now Barbara already know your true identity . . ."

Barbara muttered, "Oh my god."

Olivia continued, ". . . you might as well tell Piper, Paige and Leo."

Resentment flared within Chris at the mention of his father's name. "I'll tell Paige and Pi . . . I mean, Mom."

Both Olivia and Barbara stared at him. "Why not your dad?" the latter asked.

Chris sighed. Loudly. "I don't see why I have to tell him. Besides, the only ones who can help me are the Charmed Ones. Dad will just . . ."

Olivia commented, "You don't like him, do you?"

"Hardly anyone does these days," Barbara sardonically added. Olivia glared at her. "What? Am I lying? Hell, Leo has been in your personal doghouse for half a year."

Olivia's question took Chris by surprise. Shifting into instant denial, he replied, "How did you . . . I mean, what makes you think . . .?"

"Chris, everyone knows you can't stand him," Olivia retorted. "I think even Leo is aware of your constant hostility toward him. It's not hard to miss. What had he done to piss you off?"

The half-mortal heaved another sigh, realizing that he could no longer avoid the subject. "You have to understand. Dad and I . . ."

Another masculine voice interrupted. "Turner! Is it true?"

The two witches and the whitelighter whirled around and found a burly man around Chris' height standing behind them. The young whitelighter could not tell what bristled more - his crew cut or the expression on his craggy face. "Is what true?" Olivia shot back.

The man shook his head in mild disgust. "C'mon Turner. Just admit it. Is it true that your husband is representing Holly Macmillan?"

"What concern is it of yours, Synder?"

Inspector Synder's countenance darkened. "I'm one of the investigating officers of the Macmillan case. Now, is your husband defending her or not?"

Olivia rolled her eyes and sighed. "Of course he is. Cole is an attorney. Do the math." She turned her back on the other police officer.

But Synder refused to leave. "Your husband is going to let a killer back on the street?"

The man's question seemed to annoy Olivia. Her green eyes glittered like polished stones. "What in the . . .? What's the matter, Synder? Afraid that Cole might win the case? You know, I'm curious. Just how strong is your case against Holly Macmillan, anyway?"

Self-doubt crept into Synder's dark eyes. A predatory smile curved Olivia's lips, causing Chris to shiver. At that moment, he realized that he would never want to make an enemy out of the redhead. Synder opened his mouth to speak. Instead, the only words that came out were, "Excuse me." Then he walked away.

"Self-righteous asshole," Olivia muttered.

Barbara replied, "More like poor bastard. You really got under his skin, Livy."

"Serves him right. He never gave a shit about Toby Macmillan," Olivia continued. "The bastard is simply concerned that he might be wrong. He already has more false arrests on his record than anyone in this precinct." Her gaze returned to Chris. "Now, what were you going to say about your dad?"

Chris hesitated. "Um . . . it's nothing. Just . . . just bad vibes between the two of us. That's all."

The two witches regarded Chris with shrewd eyes. Then Olivia gave him a tight smile. "If you say so."

---------

_**San Francisco, CA Alternate Dimension**_

Olivia stood in the center of a dirt path, inside Gold Gate Park. The warlock glanced around to ensure that no one noticed her. She had taken a chance by returning to San Francisco. There was the danger that her family or former friend, Barbara Bowen, might spot her. Not that they would do anything to her . . . as long as she refrained from harming anyone. But Olivia suspected that if any of them ever discovered her return, they would move heaven and earth to learn of her intentions.

With her tote bag in hand, Olivia strode toward a clearing situated between several trees. She removed an amulet from her bag. It once belonged to a 6th century sorcerer who had created the amulet to open portals to alternate dimensions. Olivia held the amulet in front her. She muttered an incantation in Persian. Seconds later, a white glowing tunnel appeared between two trees. Gripping her amulet and tote bag, Olivia took a deep breath and strode into the tunnel.

Seconds later, she emerged from the portal and found herself . . . in Golden Gate Park. Nothing seemed to have cha . . .

"Whoa!" A deep voice caught the red-haired warlock by surprise. Olivia whirled around and found herself facing a wide-eyed derelict. "How in the hell did you appear like that?"

Olivia sighed. _Great! A witness._ She smiled at the hobo before sending a stream of fire toward him. The hobo incinerated into a pile of ash within seconds. Olivia then placed the amulet inside her bag, situated it on her shoulder and made her way along one of the park's pathways.

_END OF CHAPTER 1_


	3. Chapter 2

**"DOUBLE EMNITY"**

_Chapter 2_

At the offices of Jackman, Carter and Kline, Cole and another client of his – Mark Giovanni – stared in shock at the two men who sat on the other side of the long table, inside one of the conference rooms. "I'm . . . excuse me, but could you repeat what you had just said?" Cole politely asked.

The two men, representatives of the Napa Valley Community Housing Corporation, exchanged quick glances. The older man, a balding fellow with a dark moustache named Mr. Prima, smiled. "The NVCHC would like to coordinate the purchase of Mr. Giovanni's property in Oakville. We see the market value for development in that particular area. The property's development could provide jobs and housing for many citizens."

Both Cole and Giovanni continued to stare at the government employees. The half-daemon wondered why the NVCHC had developed a sudden interest in Giovanni's property.

Before the dark-haired wine grower could reply, Prima added, "Mr. Giovanni, you stand to gain a profit of nine million dollars."

Giovanni inhaled. Cole did not blame him. The NVCHC seemed willing to offer six million dollars more than the Magan Corporation. He wondered if the viner would be able to make such a profit based upon a year's crop production. Cole glanced at his client. He could see the temptation gleaming in the other man's dark eyes. Then to his surprise, a deep resolution replaced the greed. "Thank you gentlemen, but no," Giovanni finally answered. "I have plans for that property."

The other NVCHC representative coughed slightly. "Mr. Giovanni, our organization has made an appraisal of your property. You might earn a profit from producing your wine, but our offer will provide you with a greater profit than what you might expect to earn within the next two years."

A long, silent pause followed. Cole wondered if Giovanni had changed his mind. The latter's next words ended the half-daemon's speculation. "I'm sorry, but the answer is still no. Believe or not, winemaking is more important to me than any profit I could earn by selling my property to you. I hope to create a great vintage from that land."

The two government men exchanged ominous looks. "We're sorry to hear that Mr. Giovanni," Prima said. "Hopefully, you'll change your mind one day." He and his colleague gathered their files and briefcases before standing up. "Good day, gentlemen." Finally, the two men left.

Giovanni heaved a sigh. "We're going to hear from them soon, aren't we?"

Cole began to place his files and paperwork into an accordion folder. "I'm afraid so, Mark. I'm beginning to suspect that the Magan Corporation is behind this latest offer."

"Meaning?"

The half-daemon explained, "There's a good chance that this NVCH might file a Federal lawsuit to force you to sell your property. _Eminent Domain_. I think I've warned you about this, before."

Giovanni frowned. "What?"

"It's a legal power used by governments to acquire property for . . . 'public use'. Chances are that if the NVCH forces you to sell, they might sell the land to the Magan Corporation, if the latter promises to develop the property for reasons other than wine making."

Despair crept into Giovanni's dark eyes. "Can't you stop this from happening?"

Cole advised his client not to worry. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We don't know if the NVCH will file an Eminent Domain suit. And if they do, I'll do everything within my power to ensure they won't succeed." _And if that does not work_, Cole added silently, _there are other ways_. He smiled at his client.

----------

The condominium on Bryan Street loomed before Olivia. She had not laid eyes upon it in two years. Not since she had renounced her vows as a witch and left San Francisco. In all honestly, she did not miss it. The location and atmosphere of the Manhattan condo that she now shared with Cole seemed more preferable.

The red-haired warlock heaved a sigh and glanced at her watch. It read four fifty-seven in the afternoon. Plenty of time for her to search her counterpart's apartment. Olivia took a deep breath and entered the building.

"May I help you?" greeted a uniformed concierge politely.

Olivia stared at the man. He looked nothing like the twenty-something Latino who had been one of the building's concierges during the three years she had lived here. "I'm sorry," she finally said with a smile. "Is . . . um, is Ms. Olivia McNeill at home?"

"McNeill?" The stocky, forty-something white man blinked. He diverted his attention to the computer terminal on his desk. "I'm sorry. We have no tenant by the name of Olivia McNeill living here."

"Are you sure?"

The concierge shook his head. "I'm sorry, miss. I've been working here for a year. The name does not sound familiar. And it's not on our list of tenants."

Great! Olivia thought darkly. Either her counterpart had never lived here or had moved over a year ago. She gave the concierge a cool smile. "Oh well, I must have the wrong address. Thanks anyway." Olivia turned on her heels and marched out of the building.

The redhead had not taken five steps when she nearly collided with a dark-haired woman walking from the opposite direction. A fuming Olivia opened her mouth to give the other woman a tongue lashing, when the latter cried, "Olivia? Is that you?"

Her fury dissipated, Olivia stared at the woman and immediately recognized her. "Serena Lund? Wow! It's been quite a while."

"It's Serena Grant," the woman said with a sigh. "I've divorced Gordon and have returned to using my maiden name." Olivia murmured a perfunctory apology, before Serena continued, "What are you doing here? I thought you had moved nearly a year-and-a-half ago."

Olivia quickly made an excuse about receiving a call regarding lost mail. "An old friend of mine from Australia didn't know that I had moved."

"Oh. I see." Then Serena added, "I also heard that you got married. Is that true?"

_Married? _ Realizing that she lacked a wedding ring on her finger, Olivia immediately covered her right hand. "Yes. Yes, it's true," she answered politely. "Some . . . um, time ago." Then she glanced at her watch. "Wow! Would you look at that? It's after five already. I really need to get home." She smiled at Serena. "Perhaps we can get in touch again?" Fortunately for Olivia, the other woman casually acquiesced to the suggestion . . . as if it was an afterthought. The two females said good-bye and went their separate ways.

_Married?_ Olivia's mind reeled from the new knowledge as she strode toward her rented car. When on earth did the other Olivia get married? And whom did she . . . She paused in her tracks as the realization hit her. Cole! Of course! The other Olivia must have married the Cole Turner of this dimension. During her time in Scotland last June, Olivia recalled that the two had been a couple. She also recalled that English warlock's revelations about this dimension Cole being a lot more powerful than her Cole. A sigh left her mouth. This little mission to take possession of that damn staff might proved to be more difficult than she had assumed.

--------

Juggling two plastic grocery bags on her left wrist and Wyatt on her right hip, Piper struggled to unlock the manor's front door. She sighed in frustration. If only she possessed telekinesis like Prue or Olivia . . . or a teleportation ability like Paige, she would not have this trouble getting inside. She glanced at her one year-old son. Perhaps if she could get Wyatt . . . At that moment, Piper, Wyatt and the groceries orbed from the front stoop to inside the manor's foyer. "Thanks," she murmured to her son.

Voices and laughter drifted from the manor's Solarium. There she found Paige and Harry McNeill pouring over several family photo albums. "Paige, what are you doing home so early?"

"What do you mean . . . early?" Paige replied, as she glanced up. "I'm only early by a half hour. It's just a little past six. But if you must know, Barbara had closed the shop a little early, today. She had fainted and I orbed her to the doctor's office. I called Harry and he brought me home, after dropping Barbara off."

Barbara fainted? Piper asked about Paige's employer and Harry's sister-in-law. "Is she okay? What's wrong with her?"

Harry added, "Right now, we don't know. Dr. Palin took a few tests, but she told Barbara that she would get back to her later. The clinic was pretty busy, this afternoon."

"Clinic?" Piper frowned at Paige. "You didn't take her to the hospital?"

Paige shrugged her shoulders. "I started to, but Barbara had insisted that I take her to see this Dr. Palin."

"She's the family doctor," Harry added. "And a witch."

The front door slammed with a bang. "I'm home!" Phoebe's voice cried. "Piper, I've got some ne . . ." The middle Charmed One broke off at the sight of Paige and Harry. "Paige, you just got home?"

The youngest sister opened her mouth to answer, but Piper spoke. "Barbara wasn't feeling well and closed the shop a little early. You said something about news?"

Phoebe flopped down on the loveseat. She revealed that while having lunch with a fellow co-worker, she had spotted Cole entering Quake with Janet Hui and a new client. "Guess who this client is?"

"A demon?" Paige commented wryly.

Phoebe shot a quick glare at the younger woman. "I wish!" she snapped. "His new client is none other than Holly McMillan. You know, the wife of the very murdered Toby McMillan."

The news stunned Piper. "You're kidding!" How could Cole possibly believe that he could get the murderous Holly McMillan exonerated? And why would he even defend that woman?

"Are you serious?" Paige demanded. "Everyone knows that she's guilty. Why would Cole defend her?" She stared at Harry. "Did you know?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure. Cole and Livy told us about a month ago. Why?"

Her dark eyes blazing with outrage, Paige exclaimed, "You've known for a whole month? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Since when do you have to keep tabs on Cole's list of clients?" Harry retorted. "And I forgot. Big deal!"

Shaking her head, Piper demanded, "Why would Cole defend that McMillan woman, anyway? Does he actually think that she's innocent? And what about Olivia? She must be pissed."

With a sigh, Harry quickly dismissed that idea. "If Livy was pissed, she certainly didn't show it. She and Darryl didn't investigate the case. And even she has no say in what cases Cole might decide to accept."

Phoebe began, "Yeah, but . . ."

"Look," Harry said, interrupting Phoebe, "just accept the fact that Cole is now Holly McMillan's defender. She happens to be one of Jackman, Carter and Kline's clients. Cole works for them. Which means that he is just doing his job. And by the way, what ever happened to 'innocent before guilty'? Holly McMillan was arrested over a month ago and already, you three have judged her guilty."

"Who else wanted Toby McMillan dead?" Phoebe shot back.

Harry's next words took Piper by surprise. "I can think of a lot of people. Trust me."

"Toby McMillan was one of this city's biggest philanthropists," Piper reminded Harry. "For a rich man, he was pretty decent."

A derisive snort escaped from Harry's mouth. "Yeah . . . right. Listen, I would hang around and tell you the real truth about Toby McMillan, but . . ." He glanced at his watch. ". . . that's a long story and I have an appointment." The red-haired witch planted a kiss on Paige's cheek. "I'll see you all later." He left the Solarium and eventually, the manor.

Once the door slammed shut, Piper turned to her sisters. "What did he mean by that?"

"Who cares?" Phoebe retorted. "But I'm going to have a talk with Cole about his choices in clients."

_Oh no!_ Piper bemoaned silently.

"I wouldn't if I were you," Paige warned. Piper shot her a grateful look.

Annoyance flickered across Phoebe's face. "Why not?"

Paige continued, "Because you're no longer married to Cole, Phoebe. I sometimes think that you forget that. He's not going to sit around and listen to his ex-wife lecture him about his job."

"If he really wants to be considered good so badly, he can listen," Phoebe shot back. "He seemed to think that he had a right to lecture me about Jason." She turned on her heels and started toward the Solarium's doorway. "I'm going upstairs to change."

The moment Phoebe left the Solarium, Piper heaved an exasperated sigh. Loudly. "Will she ever get over Cole?"

"I don't know," Paige commented. "Maybe. Ever since Jason dumped her and she found out about a possible baby in her life, Phoebe has become . . ."

"Impossible?" The word came out of Piper's mouth before she could stop herself. Paige stared at her. "What? You know I'm telling the truth."

This time, Paige heaved a sigh. "Yeah . . . I know."

----------

The aroma of roasting meat greeted Cole's nostrils, as he entered the penthouse. Olivia must be home, he realized. After dumping his briefcase and coat on the sofa, he spotted his wife's Book of Shadows on the coffee table. He then headed toward the kitchen, where he found Olivia preparing dinner. She stood behind the counter, slicing cucumbers.

"Smells nice," he murmured. Then he leaned forward to kiss the back of Olivia's slender neck. "Steak?"

Olivia replied, "Chateaubriand Marchand de Vin. I came home a little early to finish it."

"Hmmm." Cole buried his face against the side of his wife's neck and sighed.

"Oh, oh," Olivia added. "Hard day?"

Instead of answering her question, Cole said, "I saw your Book of Shadows on the table. What's going on?"

Olivia turned around to give him a long stare. Then she sighed. "I was looking for an old teleportation spell of mine. I haven't used it in years. Not since college. After all, I can't always depend upon you, Paige or Nathalie. I can also use a variation on it to track someone via teleportation. Like your zoltars do."

"Sounds like a pretty good idea," Cole said. "And they were never my zoltars." He paused, recalling his tenure as the Source. "Okay, for a brief period." He rested his chin on top of Olivia's head.

"Aren't you going to tell me about your day?"

Cole removed his chin and murmured, "You know, there are times when I wish I had never given up being a demonic assassin. Of course, life hadn't been any easier back then."

Olivia tossed the cucumber slices into a salad bowl. "What happened?"

Cole told her about his lunch with his newest client, Holly McMillan. "That woman has a past that would make Caligula green with envy. You would not believe some of the stories she told me. Apparently, dear Toby was just as bad." Again, he sighed. "Even worse, I spotted Phoebe and a friend leaving the restaurant. You should have seen the look she gave me."

"Oh," Olivia murmured. "I just remembered that Jason used to be a regular contributor to some of Toby McMillan's . . . charities. This started right before we had broken up. I bet that Phoebe regarded McMillan as a saint."

With a derisive snort, Cole added, "Try the entire city of San Francisco."

Olivia began dicing tomatoes, while Cole sat on an empty stool on the other side of the counter. "Speaking of Holly McMillan," she said, "Jake Synder had confronted me about her becoming your client. I think he's worried that she'll be exonerated."

Concern crept into Cole's thoughts. "Wait a minute. Are you saying that you're being harassed at work because she's my client?"

"No, Jake Synder tried to harass me." A smug smile touched Olivia's lips. "And failed." Her green eyes met Cole's. "Don't worry. I can take care of myself."

Cole allowed himself a knowing smile. "I'm sure that you can." He snatched a sliced cucumber from the salad bowl and ate it. "Besides, not even Phoebe is my real problem. Mark Giovanni and I had a meeting with two men from the Napa Valley Community Housing Corporation. It seems they're interested in purchasing his Oakview property. To develop the area for a new housing community."

"What?" Olivia planted the knife on the counter.

Nodding, Cole continued, "In fact, they had offered an even higher price than the Magan Corporation. Mark said no, but something tells me that we haven't heard the last of the NVCHC."

Olivia glanced sharply at the half-daemon. "You think it might come down to an eminent domain lawsuit?" Again, Cole nodded. The redhead's expression grew reflective. "If the NVCHC wins, the Magan Corporation could easily purchase the property from them."

"Precisely," Cole grimly added. "Which is why I suspect that our favorite corporation is behind the NVCHC's sudden interest in the property." He shook his head in mild despair. "You know, I had a feeling that I was in for a shitty week when I woke up this morning. I wonder what else is the universe going to throw at me?"

-----------

Inside an occult shop called the Red Pyramid, the warlock perused a shelf filled with various crystals and other stones and rocks of magical properties. Olivia wanted a scrying crystal – preferably a quartz – to help her locate her alter ego. And the staff.

Just as Olivia was about to reach for a small quartz that caught her eye, a tall, thin figure loomed in her view. Olivia immediately recognized him as a Khorne Order upper-level daemon named Dhurlac. He happened to be one of his order's top assassins.

An idea came to her. Olivia knew that the Khorne Order – like most top demonic sets within the Source's Realm – maintained a first-class source of information on all possible allies . . . and enemies. The order must have knowledge of the whereabouts of the present Aingeal Staff bearer and her demonic husband.

From afar, Olivia watched Dhurlac make his purchase. Dismissing the quartz from her mind, she followed the daemon outside of the shop and into a deserted alley. The moment he teleported out of sight, Olivia walked over to the very spot where he had last stood. Then she chanted:

"_Winds of the North, East, South and West,_

_From this point of departure._

_Trace the one who stood before me _

_Carry me henceforth to where he went."_

A gust of wind surrounded the red-haired warlock before she found herself standing outside of an impressive Tudor-style manor made from red brick. A black iron gate blocked the driveway. Despite the evening's dim light, Olivia Dhurlac strode up the driveway before entering the manor. She also came to the realization that the property was located in one of San Francisco's most exclusive suburbs – Palo Alto.

Olivia walked over to the speaker box outside of the gate and activated it. "Yes?" a female's voice demanded sharply.

"Good evening," Olivia greeted politely. "I'm Inspector Olivia McNeil of the San Francisco Police. May I speak to the owner, please?" A video camera mounted near the top of the gate's right side swerved to focus upon her. Olivia responded with a wide, friendly smile.

_END OF CHAPTER 2_


	4. Chapter 3

**"DOUBLE EMNITY"**

_Chapter 3_

The female minion strode into the well-furnished room that served as Prax's private office. "Pardon me, sir," she began. "We have a visitor."

Sitting behind his desk, Prax tore his eyes away from the computer screen. "Send him away. I'm busy," he muttered.

The female hesitated. "She . . . is from the police. The San Francisco Police."

The police? Mild anxiety gripped Prax. Then he remembered. This manor was not located in San Francisco. "Remind our visitor that this is Palo Alto and not under the San Francisco Police's jurisdiction. Failing that . . . kill her."

"This particular police officer happens to be Belthazor's wife. Only, she had introduced herself as Olivia McNeill."

The news stunned Prax. The anxiety within him re-emerged. How did Olivia Turner and Belthazor finally track them? Tight-lipped, Prax ordered the minion to allow their visitor inside the manor. "Escort her to the red drawing room facing the terrace."

"Yes sir." The minion nodded and left the room.

Breathing heavily, Prax made his way to Artemus' private study. There he found the senior daemon examining some documents from a yellow envelope. "Prax," Artemus said in a morose voice. "I've just discovered some unpleasant news about one of my employees." He held out what turned out to be a photograph to the younger daemon. "Do you know this man?"

Prax glanced at the photograph of an attractive man in his early thirties, standing near one of the elevators. The latter possessed light blond hair and narrow features. He frowned. "Ah, yes sir. Anjuli had pointed him out to me as one of our new attorneys. Um . . . Bryan Something. I mean . . . Deighton. Bryan Deighton. Very efficient."

"Apparently, he is a lot more," Artemus murmured. "Klymus had recognized him as a Gimle Order daemon named Cirhan. He remembered . . . Deighton from an encounter in the Gambian Dimension, nearly a year ago."

Prax stared at his superior in disbelief. "A spy?"

Artemus sighed. "Possibly. Considering Belthazor's suspicions of the Magan Corporation, I would not be surprised if he had passed them on to his uncle. Have someone kill him as soon as possible, Prax. Tonight, if possible."

"Yes sir." Prax hesitated. "Um . . . speaking of Belthazor, I have more disturbing news."

"What?" Artemus barked.

After taking a deep breath, Prax announced their new visitor. "It's Olivia Turner, Belthazor's wife."

Artemus' easy going expression tightened into a frown. "What . . . how did she find me? Is Belthazor with her?"

"According to Anjuli, she is alone," Prax answered. "And she had introduced herself, using her maiden name. I had Anjuli escort her to the Red Room."

Artemus' frown deepened. "Curious. This might be a trap to draw me out. I want you to meet with her. Find out what she wants."

"Yes sir." Prax left a frowning Artemus and made his way to the Red Room. It happened to be a wide drawing-room filled with Empire-style furnishings and its walls painted in red. The room faced a stone terrace that overlooked the property's back lawn.

A few minutes later, Anjuli appeared in the room with a human female. One look at the guest and Prax found himself taken aback by her presence. She stood at five-feet-eight and possessed a well-endowed figure that would stop anyone in his or her tracks. But what made the visitor unforgettable were her curly red hair that ended slightly past the nape of neck and vibrant green eyes filled with humor and intelligence that peered from a delicately beautiful face.

"Prax," she greeted in a husky voice. "It's good to see you, again." Belthazor's wife held out one of her hands.

The daemon hesitated, before he reluctantly grabbed hold of the redhead's hand and shook it. "Inspector Turner, I am glad to meet you at . . ."

"Inspector Turner?" Her green eyes widened in surprise. "So, it is true. About the other Olivia and Cole, I mean. They are married."

Prax frowned. "The other Olivia? I'm sorry, but what are you trying to say?"

Lady Belthazor gracefully sat upon the sofa. Prax quickly occupied a chair to her right. "Let me put it this way, Prax. I . . . am from another dimension. An alternate dimension, in which I am a warlock."

For a moment, Prax regarded Belthazor's wife with disbelief. Then he broke into an unpleasant laugh. "What do you take me for? An idiot? Nice try, Lady Belthazor. Now I suggest that you leave before . . ."

Prax's cell phone rang. He removed it from his jacket pocket and answered it. "Yes?"

It was Artemus. "Prax, escort the young lady to my study. I would like to speak with her."

"But Artemus . . ." Prax begin to protest.

The older daemon barked, "Now!" He hung up.

Prax struggled to maintain his emotions . . . and his embarrassment, as he faced the red-haired visitor. "My . . . leader would like to meet you."

The visitor smiled. "You mean, Aretemus." Prax stared at her in shock. She added sweetly, "You had mentioned his name."

Maintaining a calm façade, Prax murmured, "Please follow me." He stood up and lead the visitor out of the room.

------------

"Not a bad dinner," Cole murmured, as he helped his wife cleared the dining table.

The red-haired witch looked slightly affronted. "Not bad? That's it?"

Cole glanced into Olivia's eyes and noticed the humor that did not matched the outraged expression on her face. He allowed himself a slight smile. "That's all you'll get from me," he replied. "Sorry, but I don't believe in encouraging ego trips."

Olivia wrinkled her nose. "You're lucky that I have these dishes in my hands, Mr. Turner."

At that moment, the dirty dishes in the couple's hands disappeared. Cole teleported the dishes to the kitchen sink. "If you like, I can clean them as well," he said with a smirk.

His wife's next words knocked him out of his sails. "That's okay." She started toward the kitchen. "I'll just clean them. Right now, as a matter of fact."

"Now?" Cole stared at Olivia through narrow eyes. Apparently, she had decided to indulge in that perverse side of her nature. He gave his right hand a brief wave. When he arrived in the kitchen, he found Olivia staring at the clean dishes neatly stacked inside one of the cabinets. "What do you know? They're already clean."

"Hmmmm." Olivia regarded her husband with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. "You really must be horny tonight. What's the matter? Can't wait . . . even for a few minutes?"

Cole grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close to him. A gasp escaped past Olivia's lips. "I've been waiting all afternoon," he murmured. "Don't you think it's time I stop?"

"Well . . ." But before Olivia could finish her reply, Cole lowered his mouth upon hers for a deep kiss.

----------

The red-haired warlock glanced around the well-furnished study with an appreciative eye. Then Olivia's gaze fell upon a handsome, middle-aged male with thick curly brown hair that grayed at the temples and a pair of piercing hazel-green eyes. "So, you're Belthazor's lady love. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

"_Lady love?"_ Olivia eased into a chair facing her host. "Not . . . wife? You believe my story?"

The daemon replied, "I had you under surveillance, while you were talking with Prax. By a telepath. So, you're still Ms. McNeill. Not married yet?"

An arch smile touched the warlock's mouth. "Not yet."

Nodding, the daemon continued, "My name is Artemus, by the way. I've been the head of the Khorne Order for nearly a century." He hesitated. "As a warlock and associate of Belthazor in your world, surely you've heard of me."

"Yes, I have," Olivia answered. "But I'm not here to discuss my universe. I'm here to ask for you . . . help."

One of Artemus' eyebrows cocked upward. "Really? What exactly do you need?"

Olivia sighed. "Information. Namely the whereabouts of the Olivia McNeill of this world. I've just learned that she had moved some time ago."

Curiosity gleamed in Artemus' eyes. "Why do you need to find her?"

"She has the Staff of Aingeal," Olivia answered. "I need it. Both Cole and I need to kill the present Source." She went on to explain how her family had kept the staff hidden from her, following their discovery that no other McNeill pyrokinetic had been able to wield the staff. "I've already tried to steal it last June. In Scotland."

Prax commented, "I heard about that." The other two stared at him. "I mean that I heard that you had . . . I mean, your alter ego had been briefly kidnapped near her ancestors' Scottish home. Several warlocks were arrested. Their ringleader, Russell Pierce, had disappeared."

"He didn't disappear," Olivia coolly corrected. "I had killed him. He failed to do his job and I no longer needed him."

Both Artemus and Prax exchanged astonished looks. The former commented, "Well, I . . . congratulations. I have heard that this Pierce was a hard man to kill. Apparently not. As for the staff . . ."

"Yes?" Olivia stared at the older daemon.

"Exactly who will you use it against?" Artemus' eyes narrowed dangerously.

Olivia calmly replied, "Against the Source? Who else? Belthazor and I plan to become the new rulers of the Source's Realm."

Aretemus' eyes remained dangerously narrow. "And who exactly is the present Source in your dimension? The old one?"

"Hardly," Olivia shot back. "The Halliwells had killed him, two years ago."

A long pause followed before Aretemus continued, "Am I . . .?"

"Your alter ego had been killed some thirty years ago," Olivia said, interrupting. "On the Source's orders."

Artemus' face paled slightly. "I see. In this dimension, the Source simply had me imprisoned in the Stygian Abyss." He sighed. "At least my other self had been spared 26 years in that hellhole. But who . . .?"

"Could we return to the main subject?" Olivia demanded. "Like the information I need?"

Coolly, Artemus leaned back into his leather chair. "Of course." He paused momentarily. "You do realize that I require payment for that piece of information?"

Payment? Olivia found herself growing wary. "For an address?"

"That address contains something that you want badly, Miss McNeill," Artemus shot back. "Well?"

Olivia sighed. "Okay, what do you want?"

The daemon replied, "Someone dead. There is a spy within my organization. A daemon from the Gimle Order." He paused. "You have heard of . . .?"

"Yeah, I have," Olivia shot back. "I've had a few encounters with some of them over the years." She sighed. "I need a name and a description."

Artemus reached for a photograph on his desk and handed it to Olivia. She stared at the attractive looking male with pale blond hair and intense light green eyes. "He goes by the name of Bryan Deighton. But one of my aides had recognized him as Cirhan. I believe he comes from the Usines Dimension, but I'm not too sure."

"Okay," Olivia muttered. "So what else do you know about him?"

"My aide had learned from one of my employees that he likes to frequent a nightclub called P3." Artemus paused dramatically. "Does that sound familiar?"

With a nod, Olivia continued, "Yeah, the old Halliwell place."

"Old?" Artemus frowned. "You mean you say that the club no longer exists in your world?"

Olivia shrugged. "I'm afraid not. Mind you, I don't care since I have never bothered to visit it.

Artemus whispered, "So, the Charmed Ones are dead."

Olivia quickly corrected him. "They're still alive in my world. Trust me." She paused as a thought came to her. "Look, I'm willing to kill this guy for you. But . . . if I find the other Olivia's address first, this deal is off. You'll just have to kill this Cirhan yourself."

"I understand," Artemus said with a nod. As Olivia rose to her feet, he added, "By the way Miss McNeill, you never told me who was the new Source in your world."

A sardonic smile curved Olivia's lips. "No, I never did. I would tell you, but I don't think even you could handle the shock. Good evening." She shot a quick smile at the two daemons and left the room.

_END OF CHAPTER 3_


	5. Chapter 4

**"DOUBLE EMNITY"**

_**(Warning: Strong sexual situations)**_

_Chapter 4_

Music blasted from the local rock band that performed on P3's stage. Phoebe and Piper sat in two of the private chairs reserved for the sisters, as they watched the nightclub's patrons gyrate to the music.

"Not a bad group," Phoebe commented. "Who are they, again?"

Piper replied, "Id Control." Phoebe stared at her. "Hey, it was their idea, not mine. I had heard about them from one of my bartenders." She inhaled sharply, catching Phoebe by surprise. "Oh my God," she murmured.

"What?" Phoebe demanded. Her eyes scanned the crowd.

"Don't you see him?" Piper nodded at the customers on the dance floor. "The good-looking guy with the light blond hair. He's dancing with a redhead."

Phoebe's gaze returned to the dance floor. She finally spotted a pale blond man dancing – rather badly – with a leggy redhead. Memories of a deadly female wizard and a magical sword flashed in her mind. "Ohmigod! It's that demon! What's his name?"

"Cirhan," Piper answered. "From the Gimle Order." She waved at the demon several times. He finally caught sight of the two sisters and waved back. "Oh look, he's spotted us."

Phoebe muttered, "Oh great." She had spent their last encounter with Cirhan in a state of hostility toward the demon. If Phoebe had to be honest with herself, most of that hostility stemmed from her own resentment against Cole and Olivia's recent wedding. Cirhan reminded her of how much Cole had grown as an individual . . . and that his relationship with Olivia had been even more responsible for fulfilling his potential than Phoebe's own past with the half-demon. And all because she was too afraid to accept Cole for himself.

"Phoebe," Piper muttered back, "be nice. He's not evil or anything like that."

The younger woman retorted, "I know!"

The music finally stopped. The Gimle demon detached himself from his red-haired companion – much to her obvious displeasure – and joined the two Charmed Ones. "Miss Halliwell," he greeted politely.

Piper invited him to fill the empty seat next to hers. "Call me Piper. And you remember my sister, Phoebe, don't you?"

The Gimle demon regarded the middle Charmed One with slight wariness, before he sat down. "Oh. Yes. Phoebe."

In an attempt to put Cirhan at ease, Phoebe regarded him with a warmer attitude. "It's nice to see you again," she said with a bright smile.

Cirhan's own attitude melted. "Thanks." Then his smile disappeared, as he added, "Weren't there supposed to be three of you?"

"Paige is at home," Piper answered. "With my son, babysitting. I'm the owner here and every now and then I like to be here and make sure that everything is running smoothly."

Surprise lit up Cirhan's light green eyes. "You own this place? It's very nice, but . . ."

"But what?" Piper demanded.

The demon hesitated slightly before he continued, "Well . . . you don't exactly strike me as the type who would own a nightclub."

Phoebe snuck a side glance at her older sister. Piper looked slightly taken aback by Cirhan's comment. She wondered if he was a telepath . . . and knew about her sister's dream to own a successful restaurant.

A tight smile briefly appeared on Piper's lips. "To be honest, I never really saw myself as a nightclub owner, myself." Then she quickly changed the subject. "So, what are you doing here, besides enjoying a night on the town?"

"I'm here in San Francisco on business," the Gimle demon replied. "Another assignment. You know Marbus, right?"

The sisters nodded. "Cole's uncle," Phoebe pointed out.

"Well, he wants me to gather as much information as I can on the Magan Corporation. I started working there about three weeks ago. Since the attempt to destroy the Whitelighter's Realm and the theft of the Haldane Sword has been tied to the Magan Corporation, the Gimle Council has become suspicious of them. Especially since the corporation is controlled by the Khorne Order."

Piper frowned. "So it does have ties to a demonic order."

Cirhan continued, "Oh yes. Actually, I have spotted a few members of that order. I only hope they haven't spotted me." He paused to glance at his redheaded partner, who now stood near the bar. "I've also seen this attorney. A mortal named Cedric Lloyd."

"Olivia's old schoolmate," Piper added. "We've heard of him. I guess it's only natural you would spot him there, considering that he's their attorney."

Phoebe asked, "Do you think it's possible that this Lloyd guy knows that he's working for demons?"

"Oh, I'm quite certain." According to Cirhan, Cedric Lloyd had been in danger of being disbarred over suspicions of bribing a witness, three years ago. "Then the law association for this state suddenly decided they had been mistaken and dropped the charges. Around that time, he began working for the Magan Corporation. He even has a contract with the company."

Both Phoebe and Piper exchanged brief smiles. The sisters found Cirhan's ignorance of mortal customs rather amusing. "I wouldn't worry if I were you," Phoebe said. "Mr. Lloyd had probably signed some employment contract with them. It's quite normal. I had to do the same with the newspaper I work for."

This time, Cirhan glanced at the dance floor. Phoebe noticed that his interest in his red-haired dance partner had not abated. Then he said to the Charmed Ones, "Oh, I'm not talking about the usual employment contract."

"Then what . . .?" Piper began.

"A demonic contract," Cirhan finished grimly. "Between Lloyd and an upper-level daemon named Prax from the Khorne Order. I just came across this information from another daemon named Hazika in the Eshu Dimension. She has a great deal of information on many magical beings – demonic or otherwise. I'm certain that Lloyd knows the exact nature of his employers. And I've also discovered something else. Mr. Lloyd has been seen in the company of two men . . . mortals, I think. They look like officials for some local government. I would have to check. Meanwhile . . ." Again, he glanced at the redhead. Phoebe saw that she was dancing with another man.

Piper added, "Yes? What were you about to say?"

His eyes still fixed upon the dance floor, Cirhan murmured, "Uh, noth . . . I mean . . . that's all I've learned so far. I just need to make a report to Marbus for . . ."

Phoebe glanced at the dance floor. "Um . . . why don't we finish this conversation, some other time?"

"Huh?" Cirhan regarded the two sisters with wide eyes. Phoebe nearly burst into laughter.

Piper's mouth twisted into a slight smile, as she added, "You seem very interested in that girl. The redhead."

"Oh. Her." The demon's face flushed pink with embarrassment. "It's nothing. I, uh . . . I had noticed her at the bar. Well . . . we had noticed each other. And I asked her to dance. That's it."

As delicately as she could, Phoebe added, "But you keep looking at her. Are you still interested in her?"

After a brief hesitation, Cirhan replied, "Um no, not . . . I mean . . ." He sighed. "Yeah, I think I am."

"Then why don't you ask her for another dance?" Phoebe insisted. "It won't hurt. Unless . . . you don't get involved with mortal . . ."

Cirhan quickly added, "Oh that won't bother me. I mean . . ." Again, his face turned crimson. "There was this girl, whose father was a wizard. We uh . . . It didn't end well. Although we had never . . ." He paused, as his expression became more embarrassed. "You know what? Never mind."

Piper quietly said, "Maybe you shouldn't get involved with this gi . . ."

With surprising speed, Cirhan replied, "Oh, but I'm not interested in her that way. I mean, I'm not serious about her. The redhead, I mean. I just . . ."

Phoebe took the bull by the horns. "Cirhan, do yourself a favor, okay? Ask her for a dance. I'm sure that it won't hurt. Trust me."

The fair-haired demon flashed an uneasy smile at the two women. "I guess you have a point. Well . . . wish me luck." He immediately stood up and made his way back to the dance floor.

The moment they were alone, Piper shook her head with disbelief. "This is certainly a first!" she exclaimed. "A shy demon! Who would have thunk? I wonder if he's ever had . . . you know . . . sex with a human?"

"There's a first time for everything," Phoebe replied. An image of Cirhan struggling with the mechanics of human sexuality caused her to burst into laughter.

"What's so funny?" Piper demanded.

Phoebe sighed. "If you only knew."

Piper continued, "Speaking of demons, you're still not planning on talking to Cole about Holly McMillan, are you?"

Phoebe sobered quickly. "So much for enjoying my evening," she muttered.

"Honey, I don't like the idea of Cole defending that woman anymore than you do," Piper continued quietly. "But I don't think that Cole is going to allow you to nag at him about her. As far as he's concerned, you're an ex-wife. He's not concerned about winning your approval. He hasn't been in nearly two years."

Resentment crept into Phoebe's mind. Her lips pressed together, she retorted, "This isn't about Cole, Piper! It's about Holly McMillan. That woman had killed her husband and the last thing she needs . . . or deserves is a defense attorney, capable of getting her acquitted."

"Say that Cole does decide to drop her case?" Piper continued. "What's to stop Holly McMillan from hiring another prominent attorney who can get her acquitted?"

Phoebe realized that she had no answer to Piper's question. And this galled her. But despite her sister's little scenario, she felt determined that her ex-husband would not be the one responsible for that woman's acquittal.

-------

Inside the Turners' bedroom, Olivia laid stretched out on their wide bed, with Cole on top of her. Their mouths were locked in a deep, wet kiss. While their tongues met in hot passion, Olivia allowed her fingers to run through the dark hair on her husband's chest. A pleasure-filled sigh escaped her mouth. She could do this all night.

Then Cole gently turned Olivia on her right side. His body spooned against hers. When she felt his member twitched against the crack of her backside, Olivia allowed herself a satisfied smile. He felt as ready as she did.

Olivia slightly raised her left leg, allowing Cole access into her. He gently nipped her shoulder before impaling his member into the wet folds of her flesh. Deep moans rose from both hers and Cole's throats. One of his hands gripped her thigh and forced her to match the rhythm of his thrusts.

In and out, Cole moved. Faster and faster. Olivia moaned with pleasure, as she felt him stab deeper within her. One of his hands traveled up past her waist, until it cupped one tender breast. His thumb pressed against a taunt nipple and again, she moaned. Then it moved to another breast. Her moans grew louder. So did his.

As their bodies moved faster, Cole's thrusts became harder. Deeper. Until his entire length filled her walls. Unable to hold back any longer, Olivia climaxed and the muscles within her folds ruthlessly constricted his member. He cried out her name and exploded inside her. As she finally fell over the edge, she threw back her head and called out his name.

A peaceful silence enveloped the couple on the bed. Cole slowly removed himself from inside Olivia . . . much to her disappointment. Then he rolled her flat on her back and lowered his mouth upon hers. Aroused, Olivia pressed one hand against the back of his skull, forcing him to deepen their kiss. Once they had parted lips, Olivia commented, "I'm surprised that you're not exhausted right now."

An affectionate smile touched Cole's lips before he kissed the side of her neck. "Trust me, if I wasn't tired, I would be doing a lot more right now." His lips continued to caress the side of her neck, until they finally moved to the hollow of her throat.

"Well, at least you're now in a good mood." A moan escaped from Olivia's mouth as Cole's tongue flickered across her collarbone.

Cole's mouth hovered above Olivia's left breast, as his blue eyes stared into hers. "I've been in a good mood since I came home."

"Is that right?"

The half-daemon leaned down to plant a kiss on her breast. "Yes ma'am. Couldn't you . . .?" A frown appeared on his face. He paused, staring at Olivia's chest.

"What is it?" the redhead demanded.

To her surprise, Cole chuckled. "Did you know there is a freckle right above your left nipple, shaped like Australia? Funny, I never noticed before. No wonder you have such an affinity for that country."

"I never said that I loved Australia," Olivia lightly retorted. "Just . . ."

"Yeah, I know," Cole said, interrupting. "You just happen to like Australian men." He spoke the last sentence in an accent straight from Down Under, surprising Olivia.

She stared at her husband for a long time with feign delight. "Wow! For a minute you were really turning me on with that accent. Why don't you keep it for the rest of the night?"

Cole grabbed Olivia close to his body in a quick move, causing her to squeak. Then he lowered his mouth upon hers. The couple kissed long and hard. "I don't need an Australian accent to turn you on," he murmured against the side of her mouth.

A seductive smile curved Olivia's lips. "Prove it." Cole slipped one hand between her legs, producing a gasp from Olivia. Then he lowered his mouth upon hers one more time and set about doing just that.

----------

Around the same time, two nude figures occupied a large, cast-iron bed inside the master bedroom of an apartment in the city's Marina District. One of them, the fair-haired Cirhan, laid stretched across the bed. His red-haired companion from P3 straddled his waist. The pair moved in unison to the throes of passion.

It had been a long time since Cirhan had sex with anyone, let alone a human. His last visits to Earth had usually lasted three days or less. And they were usually focused upon his current assignment. But this latest assignment regarding the Magan Corporation had kept him in the mortal plane for nearly three weeks. Long enough for him to feel bereft of any companionship.

Meeting the redhead at P3 had been a stroke of luck. Despite his personable appearance, Cirhan possessed an intense, yet reserved nature that did not seem to attract many females. But the redhead – one Briana Morgan – seemed quite taken with him.

"Uh . . . oh! Faster!" Briana gasped between heavy breathing. "Harder!" Cirhan tightened his grip of her hips. Breathing just as heavily, he allowed himself to plunge deeper into her body.

_In __Himerus__' name! She felt good!_ Hot and tight. Her muscles seemed to literally have his member in a vise. And the sight of her full breasts hovering above his face only increased the passion he felt. He had never met anyone like Briana Morgan – mortal or otherwise.

Loud moans filled the bedroom as Cirhan and Briana's tempo increased. The Gimle daemon felt as if his heart would explode any minute. He could honestly say about the flesh that now thrust into his companion's body. "Oh . . . I don't think . . ." Cirhan's breathing increased. "I don't think I . . . that I can hold . . ."

"Let it go, baby," Briana mumbled between breaths. "Just let it . . . ahhhh!" Unable to contain himself any longer, Cirhan let out a roar as he climaxed and allowed his seed to flow into Briana. A cry fell from her lips, as her torso formed arched upward. The deep rose tips of her breasts hovered in the air.

Then it ended. Briana's body fell upon Cirhan's. His fingers combed through her thick, red curls. She planted light kisses on his damp chest. "I . . . uh," Cirhan tried to control his breathing. "I don't . . . don't think I . . . I can breath. I've never enjoyed . . ."

Briana lifted her head to stare into Cirhan's eyes. There seemed to be a wild glint in those golden brown orbs that he found exciting. "Neither have I," she murmured. The she chuckled before planting another kiss on his chest. "Had sex like that. You know, for someone with such a geeky exterior, you're quite something." She resumed kissing.

When Briana's lips hovered above his left nipple, her tongue flickered across its tip. Cirhan groaned. "That's funny. I'm still . . . having trouble breathing," he declared heavily.

Again, Briana chuckled. "Is that supposed to be a metaphor for something?" Her mouth encircled his now erect nipple.

"No, I . . . I mean I can't . . . I can't breath!" Sure enough, Cirhan felt as if his chest was about to truly explode. A rather odd, post-coital sensation that he has never experienced in the past. Surely . . . Bolts of pain struck his chest. It felt as if it was about to collapse any moment. "Briana! Please . . . I can't . . . my heart . . ."

Briana removed her lips from Cirhan's chest. Her brown eyes now regarded him with a coldness he found unsettling. A disturbing thought flitted across the daemon's mind. He wondered if she was responsible for his condition. He tried to physically remove her from his body, but his arms refuse to budge.

"Don't fight it," the redhead whispered. "It will soon be over."

Dizziness and pain assailed Cirhan's senses. Again, he tried to move. And failed. "Wha . . . what . . . are you . . . doing . . .?" He could barely speak.

"I'm crushing your heart," Briana replied softly. "With telekinesis."

Panic struck the now barely conscious Cirhan. "N-n-no . . . sto . . . Aah!"

---------

The red-haired warlock morphed back into her natural form. She stared into the daemon's lifeless eyes. Then she felt his pulse. Dead. A gust of breath left her mouth. Perhaps she should have considered incinerating him with fire. It would have probably being a lot easier. Only . . . well, she had never even thought about it until now. Still, death by telekinesis seemed to have worked very well.

The idea of killing someone had never bothered Olivia. At least not since she had killed her cousin Dafydd Morgan, two years ago. Using her telekinesis, she had shoved him out of an open window from the Fremont Hotel, because of a scurrilous remark he had made about someone she cared very much about. Both the McNeills and the Morgans went into an uproar and Olivia found herself kicked out of the family circle. Then her former whitelighter, Leo Wyatt, tracked her down to Manhattan. It took several hateful words from his mouth to convince Olivia that she wanted him dead. He had already severed his ties with the Charmed Ones nearly a year earlier. So, she hired a darklighter to kill Leo. And he succeeded.

The deaths of Cousin Dafydd and Leo had eventually set Olivia on the road to becoming a warlock. And she never looked back. When Artemus requested that she kill this Gimle daemon, Olivia felt no remorse over the latter's possible death. But she did dislike the idea of killing someone on the behalf of others. Which explained why she never became an assassin. She reasoned that if she was going to kill, she would rather do so for her own benefit. But the Gimle daemon's death did serve a personal purpose. Or least she hoped it would.

After donning her clothes, Olivia picked up the telephone on the night stand. She dialed the number given to her by Artemus' assistant. "Yes?" a groggy voice answered.

"It's me, Ms. McNeill," Olivia said. "Your Cirhan is dead. Just as Artemus had requested. When will he have the information I need?"

A sigh followed. "It's nearly two in the morning, Ms. McNeill," Prax replied. "Normally this would not bother me . . . if we were somewhere other than the mortal plane. Call me back in the . . ."

"Listen! I have no intention of remaining in this dimension any longer than I have to!" Olivia retorted. "I will meet with Artemus at his home around eight o'clock, sharp. Good night, Prax."

Before the daemon could respond, Olivia hung up. She stared at Cirhan's corpse. Odd. She had expected him to disintegrate upon death. Perhaps it took a certain element to disintegrate a daemon. Or a spell or portion. Olivia's eyes examined the daemon's nude form. She could not help but admire how he kept himself in shape. Surprisingly, he turned out to be a pretty decent lover. It almost seemed a shame to kill him. On the other hand . . .

Olivia waved her hand over the corpse. It disintegrated under a stream of fire. On the other hand, his death also meant access to the other Olivia's home. And she had no intention of spending one more minute with a corpse than she had to.

_END OF CHAPTER 4_


	6. Chapter 5

**"DOUBLE EMNITY"**

_Chapter 5_

It was a groggy witch that stumbled toward the Turners' penthouse balcony, the following morning. Olivia slid the glass door open and inhaled deeply. The cool, muggy air indicated that San Francisco might experience some rain before the day ended. Not that it mattered to Olivia. She looked forward to the rain and right now, all that mattered to her was the fresh air entering the penthouse. Anything to dispel the lack of sleep that had plagued her the moment she had awaken from her nightmare.

Or had it been a nightmare? Although not a gifted seer like Cecile or Phoebe, Olivia had previously experienced at least three prophetic dreams in her lifetime. All had occurred during the last four years of her life. The last dream had occurred the night before Richard and Aunt Rhiannon's deaths. It seemed odd that she would dream of two complete strangers having sex before the woman's murder of her partner. Were they somehow connected to her?

"You're up already?" another voice asked.

Olivia whirled around and found Cole approaching the balcony. His haggard eyes and pale face told her that he must be as exhausted as she felt. "I've been up for the past hour or two," Olivia said with a sigh.

Cole stopped beside Olivia. "It's almost a quarter to six. You've been up since . . . what? Three-thirty? Four?"

"Probably since three-thirty or so," Olivia added. She cleared her throat. "I had a nightmare. Something I haven't had since Richard's death. And Aunt Rhiannon's." She glanced at Cole's haggard face. "If I didn't know any better, I would say the same about you."

Cole let out a gust of breath. "Yeah, I did. About someone I haven't seen in months. At least not since last summer. He was . . . I mean, he's a daemon. From the Gimle Order. I think your brothers and Barbara had met him, while we were on our honeymoon."

An awful thought came to Olivia. "Wait a minute. Are we speaking of the same guy? Pale blond hair, pale green eyes, hawk like features and slender in built?"

"That's him. Cirhan" Cole paused ominously. "He's one of the Gimle Order's top operatives." His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You had a dream about this guy?"

Olivia nodded. "Yeah. He was having . . . I mean . . ."

Cole continued, "He was having sex with some redhead. Who eventually murdered him by . . ."

". . . crushing his heart with telekinesis," Olivia finished with a shudder. "How awful! Even worse, I've killed at least two daemons in that manner. But I've never viewed it from the victim's point of view. Ugh!" She asked her husband, "Do you think that this Cirhan has actually been murdered?"

A sigh left Cole's mouth. "I hope not. But I'll check with . . ."

The doorbell rang. Husband and wife exchanged surprised looks. _Who would be visiting them around this time of the day? _ Both returned inside the penthouse and Cole opened the door. The visitor turned out to be Cole's uncle. The older daemon wore a grim expression. "Belthazor, Olivia," he greeted. He entered the penthouse. "I hate to interrupt your morning, but I need help. It seems that one of the Order's operatives might be dead. Killed here in San Francisco."

Again, Olivia and Cole exchanged looks before they answered at the same time, "Cirhan."

Surprise replaced the grim expression on Marbus' face. "How did you know? We just found out this morning. A seer with our Order had a vision of Cirhan's death. I found his remains inside his flat, just a few minutes ago."

Cole guided his uncle toward the living room sofa. "Your seer wasn't the only one who had a vision of his death. Both Olivia and I also had visions. In our dreams."

"You and Olivia had both dreamed of Cirhan's death . . . at the same?" Disbelief rang in Marbus' voice. "Bloody hell! Has this ever happen to you before?"

"Not exactly," Cole replied wryly.

Olivia asked, "What was Cirhan doing in San Francisco?"

"I . . ." A pained expression appeared on Marbus' face. "The Gimle Council had assigned him to seek employment with the Magan Corporation . . . and spy on them. Cirhan had informed me that he had some evidence to show me. He had already given me a photograph of these two visitors at the office. As for the other material . . ." He sighed. "Well, someone was at the door. I didn't have time to thoroughly search his flat."

"I'll do it," Olivia said. "I'll just pop over there on my way to work." The two men stared at her. "It should be no problem. Trust me."

Cole, who stood behind Olivia, asked, "What photograph did Cirhan send you?"

Marbus handed Cole a photograph of Cedric Lloyd with two men. Olivia peered at the photograph. It consisted of three men, who stood beneath a sign that stretched across the wall. It read - **MAGAN CORPORATION**. "He had taken that photograph about three days ago. I only recognized the attorney. As for the other two men . . ."

Cole chuckled mirthlessly. "I know those two. Robert Prima and Marc Jaeger of the Napa Valley Housing Corporation. So, they do have connections with the Magan Corporation. Interesting. This little photograph is going to come quite in handy."

--------

The other members of the McNeill family gathered inside the manor's dining-room for their usual morning breakfast. The patriarch, Jack McNeill, had left the room to answer a telephone call. Gweneth McNeill turned to her only daughter-in-law and asked, "Barbara, how are you feeling? Are you still . . .?"

"Having fainting spells?" Barbara finished. She shook her head. "No. Dr. Palin told me to go home and drink some camomile tea to make me relax. Which helped, because I've been feeling pretty good since yesterday evening."

"Do you know why you had fainted in the first place?" Harry asked. "Did Dr. Palin tell you . . .?"

Barbara shook her head. "Not yet. She said that she would give me a call." The McNeills continued to regard her with concerned eyes. "Hey! I'm fine. Really. Perhaps I've been a little overworked . . . lately."

Bruce muttered, "More like the past two months or so." Barbara glared at her husband, who bore a strong resemblance to his father. He assumed an innocent air. "What?"

"What did you mean by that?"

"C'mon Barbara! You've pretty much been on edge since the Winter Solstice," Bruce protested.

Barbara continued to glare at her husband. "If you're referring to that incident with Paige . . ."

Jack McNeill entered the dining-room with a frown stamped on his face. "I've just received a phone call from Olivia. Apparently, a Gimle Order daemon had been killed last night."

Bruce shrugged his shoulders. "Why is Livy so concerned about this particular daemon?"

"Because apparently you know him." Jack sat down in his usual chair. "Someone named Cirhan." Barbara gasped at her father-in-law's mention of the familiar name. "Wasn't he that daemon you and the Halliwells helped track down that sword before the New Year?"

Shock appeared on Bruce and Harry's faces. Barbara knew exactly how they felt. She had liked the fair-haired daemon. "How . . ." She hesitated. "Uh . . . who killed him?"

"Must be someone here in San Francisco," Harry replied. Barbara and the other family members stared at him. He revealed that Cirhan had been assigned to spy upon the Magan Corporation for the Gimle Order. "Piper and Phoebe had spotted him at P3, last night. Paige and I found out, when they returned home."

Barbara's father-in-law included that Olivia and Cole had learned of Cirhan's death from Marbus, Cole's uncle. The young daemon's charred remains had been found on his bed. "According to Livy, Marbus is in the dark about how someone managed to get so close to Cirhan. I mean, the poor bastard had been killed in his bed."

"Perhaps it was his date," Harry added. "Piper and Phoebe saw him leave the club with some redhead. I wonder if she was a daemon."

The family's matriarch, Elise McNeill, expressed doubt. "I don't know. Considering the amount of time Cirhan may have spent with her, don't you think he would have sensed she was one?" Everyone, including Barbara, stared at her. "What? It's possible, isn't it?"

Barbara pondered her grandmother-in-law's words. A mortal killing a smart, upper-level daemon like Cirhan? Perhaps if that mortal had been a wizard. Or a warlock. Or perhaps even a McNeill."

---------

A loud groan drew the two younger Charmed Ones' attention to the kitchen doorway. An exhausted-looking Piper stumbled into the kitchen and slowly made her way toward an empty chair. "Oh my God," she muttered. "I think I may have overslept. What time is it?"

Paige, who stood in front of the stove, glanced at the kitchen clock. "It's almost seven forty-five. You overslept." She stirred the oatmeal bubbling inside a boiler on the stove.

"I guess I did. I better . . ." Piper's eyes grew wide at the sight of Paige. "Are you cooking something?"

Phoebe replied, "Oatmeal. You were still asleep, so Paige started on breakfast." The oldest sister began to rise from her chair. "C'mon Piper! Sit down. It's not as if Paige has never cooked before." Paige allowed herself a private smile.

"Yeah. I know." Piper – reluctantly – returned to her seat.

The telephone rang. Paige abandoned the oatmeal in order to answer it. The caller turned out to be her boyfriend. "Hey! Harry! Did you forget something, last night?"

"Actually, I have some news that I think your sisters might find interesting," Harry's voice replied. He told her about the death of Cirhan. Surprised, Paige gasped out loud. "From what Dad told us, Olivia is going to check out his apartment. Oh, and . . . I might be free for lunch, today. Suppose I pick you up around twelve-thirty?"

Still disturbed by the news of Cirhan's death, Paige muttered, "Yeah, that would be great. See ya." She hung up and turned to face her sisters. "That was Harry."

A sardonic Piper replied, "We pretty much figured that out."

Paige ignored her sister's caustic remark and continued, "The McNeills just found out from Olivia, who found out from Mar . . ."

"Paige!" Phoebe heaved a sigh. "Sorry. Go on."

"He's dead."

Phoebe frowned. "Who?"

"Cirhan. According to Harry, some Gimle Order seer had a vision of his death." Paige slowly returned to the stove and turned it off. "Marbus had found Cirhan's remains – a pile of ash, by the way – on his bed. He's dead."

"What?" Piper's exhaustion disappeared. "When did this . . . how?"

Phoebe grimly added, "I bet it was that redhead he was dancing with. Why couldn't I have foreseen his death?"

Piper shook her head. "You never touched, Pheebs. Or anything that had belonged to him. My God! They must have found out he was a spy!"

Blue lights materialized into Chris. The young whitelighter greeted, "Hey guys! Good, you're all here. I want to talk to you about . . ."

"Not now, Christ," Piper said curtly, interrupting. "The Elders can wait. Unless . . ." She gave Chris a shrewd look. "Has this something to do with Cirhan?"

Chris blinked. "Who?"

"Cirhan!" Paige retorted. "Oh God! You mean to say that you don't remember him? The Gimle demon that we had helped to get back that Sword of Haldane?"

Vague realization gleamed in Chris' eyes. Paige suspected that he barely remembered Cirhan. "To tell you the truth, I only met him once. So . . ."

"What do you want, Chris?" Piper demanded. "Is there some demon that the Elders want vanquished?"

Chris shook his head. "No, this is something personal."

Piper shot back, "Well, since it's personal, it can wait until later. Right now, I have an appointment regarding a new liquor license." She glanced at her watch. "Oh God! I have at least an hour to get ready!"

"I can give you a lift," Paige suggested. "The fast way."

Piper struggled to her feet. "I suppose that'll have to do." She turned to Chris. "Listen, why don't you talk to Leo about your problem, when you deliver Wyatt to him?"

A mild hint of distaste flickered in Chris' eyes at the mention of his predecessor's name. "Actually, I'd rather talk to you."

"Why don't you listen, Piper?" Phoebe said out of the blue.

Both Paige and Piper stared at the middle Charmed One. "Why?" the latter demanded.

"I . . ." Phoebe began. She shot a helpless look at Chris, who directed his gaze away from her. Much to Paige's surprise. Phoebe mumbled, "Never mind."

Paige demanded, "Is there something that you two know that we don't?"

Chris sighed. "I've gotta go. Is Wyatt upstairs?"

"Yeah," Piper said. Chris orbed out of the kitchen.

Piper and Paige redirected their gaze at Phoebe. "What was that about?" Piper demanded.

Phoebe avoided their gaze. Instead, she pushed aside her half-empty bowl of oatmeal and stood up. "I don't know. Chris had told me that he wanted to speak to you about something. He didn't exactly go into details about it. I'm running late. See you two later."

"Wait a minute! Phoebe!" Piper cried. The middle sister paused at the door. Piper hesitated before she continued, "Do yourself a favor. Don't go running to Cole about Holly McMillan, okay? Remember . . . you're no longer married to him."

Phoebe grumbled, "Yeah . . . right. See you." She left the kitchen.

Her eyes still glued to the doorway, Paige said. "She's going to do it, isn't she? See Cole about that woman."

A hard sigh left Piper's mouth. "I'm afraid so. That's our Phoebe."

-------

The front door to Artemus' Palo Alto home swung open. The red-haired warlock greeted the pale-faced Prax with a bright smile. "Good morning, Prax," Olivia greeted. "As you can see I'm right on time. Eight o'clock sharp."

The daemon glared at her. "Miss McNeill. Please follow me. Artemus is expecting you." Instead of leading her to the red drawing-room or Artemus' study, Prax led Olivia to a spacious dining room filled with elegant 18th century furnishings. They found the chestnut-haired daemon eating breakfast.

Artemus glanced up from his meal and beamed at the newcomer. "Well, well! Look who's here! Congratulations, Miss McNeill. Have a seat."

Olivia sat in the chair closest to Artemus' right side. She glanced at his plate. "Hmmm. The omlet and bacon looks delicious."

"Would like some breakfast?" the daemon asked politely.

"I've already eaten, thanks." Olivia paused, as Artemus continued to eat. "Now that I'm here . . ."

Artemus wiped his mouth with an expensive napkin and regarded Olivia through narrowed eyes. "You know, Miss McNeill, Prax should have told you that I dislike being dictated by others . . . especially some young warlock who has the nerve to tell me when we're supposed to meet," he coldly remarked.

Despite the daemon's chilly demeanor, Olivia responded with an amused smile. "I see. You like being in control, but not under the control of others. It's only natural. Most beings feel the same." Her smile disappeared. "Including me. I didn't exactly relish being used as your personal assassin. Especially against my will."

It became Artemus' turn to smile. "Well, now that we finally understand one another, may I convey my congratulations for the manner in which you had disposed that spy? Death by heart failure. How unique."

Olivia gave her host a hard stare. "How did you know that I had crushed . . ." She paused, as a suspicion came to her. "You had me followed!"

"Actually, I had Cirhan followed," Artemus explained. "By a daemon who can literally make himself invisible. He had a cousin in the Thorn Order. I believe that she knew Belthazor. Her name was Klea."

"I know her," Olivia replied, recalling the tall demoness whose human form resembled a woman of Asian descent. "She is still alive in my dimension."

"Her cousin Klymus had witnessed your little _tête-à-tête_ with Cirhan. He did not realize who you were, until you had killed the poor bastard."

Annoyed that she had been observed by some Peeping Tom who happened to be a dameon, Olivia replied in a sharp voice, "Now that I've killed the _poor bastard_ . . . my payment?"

Artemus nodded. "Of course." He removed a slip of paper from his jacket pocket. "Here is Belthazor's address."

Olivia glanced at the paper. "I know this address. It's in the Pacific Heights neighborhood." She stared at Artemus. "The penthouse?"

"It had originally belonged to the law firm that Belthazor now works for," the daemon explained. "I believe he had purchased it for himself, six months ago. I think you should know that you might find it difficult to get inside. Belthazor's penthouse is practically a magical fortress. It's warded."

Chuckling softly, Olivia said, "There are ways to break into someone's home that don't require magic." She stood up. "Time for me to leave. Thank you for your help."

"If you require further help, just call," Artemus added. "I will send Klymus to help you."

The idea of working with her demonic Peeping Tom did not appeal to Olivia. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm certain that I won't require the extra muscle. Getting inside the penthouse should not be a problem. Especially with Cole and my doppelganger at work."

Artemus shrugged his shoulders. "If you say so. But," he whipped out a business card and held it out. "Just in case you need the extra help."

A sigh fell from Olivia's lips. "All right. Just in case." She took the card. "Again, thanks for the help." She started toward the door.

The daemon's voice rang in her ears as she strode toward the dining-room's doorway. "Anytime, Miss McNeill. Anytime."

_END OF CHAPTER 5_


	7. Chapter 6

**"DOUBLE EMNITY"**

_Chapter 6_

Olivia materialized outside of Cirhan's apartment and heaved a sigh. Her teleportation spell had worked. The red-haired witch had considered entering via the front door. But the Marina District apartment building happened to be secured. Which meant acquiring the permission of the building's manager or landlord to enter the building. And Olivia did not want to alert anyone of Cirhan's death. At least for the sake of the Gimle Order.

After unlocking the door, Olivia opened it and found herself inside a neatly furnished apartment that seemed to be slightly devoid of any taste or personality. Judging by the sparse furniture and lack of décor, Cirhan had obviously viewed his stay in San Francisco as temporary.

Olivia stood in the middle of the living room and glanced around. She spotted a desk against the left wall and walked toward it. Ignoring the computer laptop situated on the desktop, Olivia began to search the drawers. She found nothing except a stack of computer CD disks, some pens and pencils in the side drawers and nothing in the middle one. Whatever material that Cirhan had been planning to hand over to Marbus, must be hidden. Only where?

It took Olivia nearly fifteen minutes to search the living room and the kitchen. Unfortunately, she came up empty-handed. Then she decided to try Cirhan's bedroom. The sight of the scorch mark on the bed briefly startled Olivia. It also confused her. Had her dream got the facts wrong? It looked as if the Gimle daemon had been incinerated, instead of having his heart crushed. Then again, Cirhan's killer could have incinerated his body . . . after crushing his heart. The real answer seemed destined to remain a mystery.

Again, Olivia came up empty after searching the room. She began to wonder if Cirhan had left the material inside his desk at work. If so, Marbus and his cronies from the Gimle Order will have to conduct the search. As she turned toward the door, it occurred to Olivia that she had not search underneath the bed. She fell to her knees for a quick search. She only found two pairs of shoes and nothing else. As she prepared to stand up, Olivia spotted something unusual about the bed frame's side rail. Someone – possibly Cirhan – had included what looked like a latch . . . to a drawer. She removed the latch and pulled back the drawer. Inside, she found a large yellow envelope.

Olivia removed the envelope and slid the drawer back into place. Then she sat on the bed to examine her prize. She found a collection of photographs and what looked like several documents inside the envelope. One of the documents looked like a demonic contract. Curious. Olivia returned the contents inside the envelope. She would have to wait until she returned home for a more thorough examination. Then she grabbed her prize and using a spell, teleported out of the apartment.

----------

Entering the Turners' apartment building proved to be very easy for the red-haired warlock. She merely nodded at the doorman and made her way to the building's elevator bank. Once she entered one of the elevators with other tenants, the ride going up seemed to last forever. The elevator stopped at least two times before it finally arrived on the top floor.

The door opened and Olivia found herself in a small foyer, facing a pair of double doors. Doors that obviously belonged to the Turners' penthouse. Olivia removed a small, hooked lock pick from her tote bag. She inserted the tool into the door's lock. To her great frustration, the door remained locked. Again, she tried to unlock the penthouse door. And once more, nothing happened.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" the warlock cried angrily. Olivia threw the lock pick at the door. "Now, what in the hell am I supposed to do?"

A man's voice said, "Didn't work, huh?"

Olivia whirled around. A pair of yellow eyes appeared in front of the elevator. The eyes then turned black, as a human man materialized before her. "What the . . .?" She sighed. "You must be Klymus, Artemus' little peeping tom." Her eyes took in his human form. He stood at least 5'10" tall and possessed a slim, yet muscular body; along with very handsome Asian features. His cheekbones could easily slice through paper.

"I'm not little," the daemon shot back. "I'm at least two inches taller than you." His eyes swept over Olivia in a slightly lustful manner. "You know, you're prettier than the form you had used, last night. Better curves."

A sigh left Olivia's mouth. "Oh, I see. You're just a Peeping Tom. What do you want?"

"I'm here to help. Artemus figured you would have difficulty getting into Belthazor's penthouse."

Now Olivia understood. "The Cole in this dimension has the lock warded against normal break-ins, as well as magical teleportation."

Klymus grinned. "You know, Belthazor. _Paranoid_ is thy name. A warlock hired by Prax once tried to break in. Didn't work. Looks like you'll have to find another way to get inside."

Again, Olivia sighed. "Right. C'mon. Let's go." She turned away from the penthouse doors and walked toward the elevator. "I need to get a key either from Cole or the other Olivia. And something tells me that I'll need your help."

"Why take the elevator?" Klymus asked. "I can easily teleport us out of here." The daemon held out his hand with a smirk.

Olivia grabbed his hand . . . and squeezed it tightly. Klymus grimaced. "Ready," she said with a sweet smile. "My car is just downstairs, in front of the building. A dark blue Toyota Corolla."

The warlock and the daemon teleported out of the small foyer.

-------------

Eleanor's voice crackled over the intercom on Cole's desk. "You have a visitor, Mr. Turner." The half-daemon leaned back against his chair and sighed. Phoebe. It must be. After yesterday's encounter at Quake, she was bound to pop up sooner or later. His assistant continued, "It's your uncle, Mr. Farrell."

Marbus? This was a surprise. Cole sat up and replied, "Send him in, Eleanor." Less than a minute later, the chestnut-haired daemon entered Cole's office. "Was there something you had forgotten to tell me, earlier this morning?"

The daemon sat down in one of the chairs on the other side of Cole's desk. "Just wondering if you've heard from Olivia about Cirhan's flat." He paused and regarded his nephew with hopeful eyes. "Have you?"

"Sorry Marbus," Cole replied. "I did call Riggerio to see if he had any information about Cirhan's death. So far . . . nothing."

The older daemon sighed. "This matter is getting out of hand. Something has to be done about the Marbus Corporation. Or should I say, the Khorne Order? That bloody order has been a thorn in our side ever since it tried to get Frances and her sisters to kill me."

Rolling his eyes, Cole retorted, "Tell me Marbus, will you ever learn Phoebe's real name? Or are you going to call her Frances, forever?"

Marbus protested, "I cannot help getting her name wrong. She reminds me of a Frances I once knew. As for the Magan Corporation . . ."

"Sooner or later, they will have to make a move that will expose the Khorne Order's new leader," Cole commented. "Or . . . I'll just have to use a plan that will do the trick."

Again, the intercom buzzed. Eleanor's voice announced, "You have another visitor, Mr. Turner. It's your ex-wife."

"Great," Cole murmured sardonically. "Send her in,Eleanor."

Seconds passed before a determined looking Phoebe strode into the office. "Cole, I want to . . ." She paused at the sight of the Gimle Order daemon. "Oh. Marbus. Uh . . . hi."

"And how are you . . ." Marbus began.

Cole quickly murmured, "Phoebe."

"How are you . . . Phoebe, darling?" his uncle finished.

The Charmed One responded with a shy smile. "I'm fine. I heard about Cirhan. Sorry."

Marbus' countenance darkened slightly. "Yes, well it was unfortunate. I only wish I knew who had killed him."

"It was a her," Phoebe quickly added. Her face turned pink as the two daemons stared at her. "Piper and I saw him at P3, last night. He was with some woman."

Cole frowned. "Was she a redhead, by any chance? Only a shade darker than Olivia's hair?"

"Yeah," Phoebe slowly replied. "Only it was long and straight. Cirhan was completely into her." She paused to stare at Cole. "How did you know?"

"I . . . uh, I had a dream. About Cirhan's death."

Disbelief shone in Phoebe's dark eyes. "I don't believe this! You had a vision about Cirhan and I didn't? God, I must be feeling tense." She paused to glare at Cole. "Wait a minute! I know why. Holly McMillan."

"Time for me to go," Marbus announced.

Cole glared at his uncle. "Coward," he muttered under his breath.

Marbus strode toward the door. "Take care of yourself, lad," he cried. "He reached the door and turned to face the couple. "And it was nice seeing you again, Frances." He flashed a quick smile at Phoebe before making his escape.

Now alone, Cole and Phoebe faced each other with obvious discomfort. The half-daemon heaved a big sigh, as he reached for a file. "So . . . Phoebe, what can I do for you?"

"For a start, you can drop Holly McMillan as your client," Phoebe immediately replied.

Cole rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Sorry Phoebe, I cannot oblige you. Not unless I want to be disbarred."

"What?"

Focusing his gaze upon his ex-wife, Cole patiently explained that no judge would allow him to be dismissed from the case, unless he had a very good reason. "And I don't think you want me to lie to the Courts," he added sarcastically.

Phoebe demanded, "Why did you accept the case in the first place?"

"Because I was ordered to . . . by the senior partners," Cole answered. "Understand? And as Holly's attorney, it's my duty to fight tooth and nail to get her exonerated."

"But she's guilty of murder!"

Cole opened his mouth to retort . . . until a thought came to him. "Did you have some kind of premonition about the McMillans?"

Phoebe shook her head. "No. But c'mon Cole! It's so obvious! Everyone knows she's guilty!"

Another heavy sigh left Cole's mouth. He should have known. Typical Halliwell behavior. Passing judgment before knowing all of the facts. The half-daemon felt a strong inclination to teleport his former wife out of his office. But he would have to explain Phoebe's disappearance to Eleanor. "I'm sorry Phoebe, but the justice system believes otherwise. Innocent until proven guilty. Or else Holly McMillan's ass would have been tossed into prison without a trial. Now unless you have some evidence that can help my client . . ." He stood up and strode toward the door. ". . . I think it's time for you to leave."

"Cole, you can't . . ."

In a hard voice, Cole added, "Phoebe, I'm trying to be nice. I do not want to be unpleasant."

Again, Phoebe's face turned pink. She let out a gust of breath and marched toward the door. "That's going to be a little difficult to avoid, don't you think?" she retorted, as she paused to glare at Cole. "Considering that you're about to help a killer go free."

"That's it." Cole grabbed Phoebe's arm. She gasped out loud, as he dragged her toward the door. "I think you've just outstayed your welcome." He opened the door.

Phoebe protested, "Cole! Wait! I just . . ."

Cole opened the door and barked to his assistant, "Eleanor, please make sure that Miss Halliwell leaves. And that I don't be disturbed, any further. Good day, Phoebe." He shoved his ex-wife out of his office.

"No! Cole! Something . . ."

Before Phoebe could finish, Cole slammed the door in her face. Peace. At last.

----------

"That's going to be a little difficult to avoid, don't you think? Considering that you're about to help a killer go free."

The moment she uttered those words, Phoebe knew she had went too far. The cold anger in Cole's blue eyes made it that obvious.

"That's it," Cole growled. He grabbed Phoebe's arm and . . . the visions hit her. _She saw Cole stretched out on a carpeted floor, while a female's hand shoving a stiletto into Cole's heart. She also saw a very astonished half-demon gasp before he died. The vision immediately shifted toward an image of headstone in a cemetery that read the following: __**"COLERIDGE BENJAMIN TURNER, January 19, 1969 – March 3, 2004. Beloved Husband and Son."**_

Cole added angrily, "I think you've just outstayed your welcome." He dragged her toward the door.

Realizing what she had done, Phoebe protested, "Cole! Wait! I just . . ."

Cole opened the door. "Eleanor!" he barked to his assistant. "Please make sure that Miss Halliwell leaves. And that I don't be disturbed, any further. Good day, Phoebe." He shoved the Charmed One out of his office.

Phoebe cried, "No! Cole! Something . . ." Before she could finish, her ex-husband slammed the door in her face. Phoebe reached for the doorknob and twisted it. Unfortunately, Cole had locked the door. "Cole! Open up! You're in . . ." Aware of Ms. Read's presence, she corrected herself. "I mean, I have to tell you something. Cole?"

"Miss Halliwell, the elevator is behind you," the paralegal coolly reminded Phoebe.

The younger woman rounded on the older one. "Look! I have something important to tell Cole. Please, let me in. Or at least tell him."

"Tell him what, Miss Halliwell?"

At that moment, Phoebe realized it would be useless to argue any further. "Never mind," she grumbled. "I'll . . . I'll talk to Cole, later." She turned on her heels and marched toward the elevator.

She had to find some way to warn Cole about his impending death. There was Olivia, but Phoebe dreaded the idea of a private conservation with her successor. Then again, if she could not warn Cole or Olivia, perhaps she could warn Paige. Hell, she had to warn somebody.

**END OF CHAPTER 6**


	8. Chapter 7

**"DOUBLE EMNITY"**

_Chapter 7_

Paige placed the package of herbs inside a small plastic bag and handed it over to the customer. "There you go," she said pleasantly. "Come back again." The customer gave Paige a polite smile and left Ostera's.

Seconds later, a newcomer entered the shop. It was Bruce. "Hey," he greeted Paige in a breathless voice. "Is Barbara ready for lunch?"

"She's in her office." A dark-haired young woman emerged from the shop's storeroom, holding a box. She happened to be Ostera's second assistant, Madeline Oser. "In the middle of a phone call."

Bruce nodded. "Hopefully, she won't be too long. It's my day off and I had made reservations at the Big Four Restaurant. At the Huntington Hotel."

"Don't tell me," Madeline said. "You know the chef. Right?"

A light smile touched Bruce's mouth. "How did you know?"

Madeline continued, "My aunt and uncle once . . ." She broke off, as Barbara emerged from the back.

The blond shop owner wore a stunned expression on her face. Which also struck Paige as unusually pale. Bruce frowned. "Barbara? Is there something wrong?"

"Um . . ." Barbara let out a gust of breath. "Um, I was just on the phone with Dr. Palin. Apparently, the reason I had fainted . . ." She stared directly at Bruce with dazed eyes. "I'm pregnant. I mean, we're . . . uh, pregnant. I mean . . ." Barbara paused. "We're going to be parents. I'm over two months pregnant. The baby is due in late September."

Both Paige and Madeline squealed with delight. Bruce's gray-blue eyes widened in shock. "Uh . . . you mean to say . . . oh God!" he whispered.

Paige happily enveloped her employer into a bear hug. "Congratulations, Barbara!"

"Thanks," the blond witch replied in a shaky voice. Madeline also gave her a hug. Then Barbara turned to her husband. "Bruce?"

The stunned expression remained stamped on Bruce's handsome face for a few seconds longer. Then his mouth broke into a wide grin, as he enveloped his wife into a tight hug. "Goddess, I can't believe it. We're going to be parents!"

"Yes, we are," Barbara replied happily, as she returned Bruce's hug. Paige could see tears glistening in her blue eyes.

The Charmed One suggested, "Barbara, why don't you take the rest of the day off? Maddy and I can take care of the store."

Barbara turned to face her two employees. "I don't know . . ." she began doubtfully.

"Paige is right," Madeline added. "You and Bruce should celebrate."

The expecting couple exchanged knowing looks. Bruce said, "Why not?"

"Why not indeed?" Barbara replied. She and Bruce linked arms. "Don't forget to close the shop at five, you two. See you tomorrow."

"Bye!" Paige and Madeline cried out after the departing couple.

Once Bruce and Barbara closed the front door behind them, Madeline turned to Paige. "I guess I better finish stocking on the St. John's Wort. You want to go to lunch first?"

Paige insisted that the younger witch break first for lunch . . . as originally planned. Not long after Madeline had left the shop, the telephone rang. Paige answered it. "Ostera's Herbal Shop. May I help you?"

To the Charmed One's surprise, her elder sister's voice rang in her ear. "Paige, it's me. Phoebe. I need your help."

"Phoebe? What's the matter?"

The middle Charmed One continued, "I need you to get a hold of Cole. Or maybe Olivia. It's serious. I think . . ." She broke off, as something close to a sob filled the telephone receiver.

Paige frowned. "Pheebs?"

_"He's going to die! Today!"_

Her sister's words confused Paige even further. "Phoebe, what the hell are you talking about?"

Phoebe explained that she had paid Cole's office a visit to discuss Holly McMillan. Paige rolled her eyes at the news. _For Pete's sake!_ "Phoebe, I can't believe that you had went ahead and did it. Even after Piper and I had told you it was a bad idea!"

"Paige . . ."

But the youngest Charmed One was in full rant. "Look, none of us like the idea of Cole defending that woman anymore than you do, but it is none of business! Cole is not a part of our family anymore. He's no longer your husband. And I doubt very much that he would care what you think about his clients."

A loud sigh filled the telephone receiver. "I'm aware of that, Paige!" Phoebe retorted. "Cole made it loud and clear when he dragged me – literally, I might add – out of his office."

"Well, we did warn . . ."

"Look, Paige, enough of that! Please!" Phoebe sounded impatient. Paige also detected a hint of desperation. "Listen, something happened." Phoebe went on to explain that at the moment when Cole had dragged her out of his office, she experienced a premonition. "I saw him being stabbed in the heart . . . by a woman's hand holding a dagger of some kind. And I saw his tombstone. According to the date on it, _he dies today!_"

Paige countered, "Didn't you tell him?"

Phoebe retorted that it was hard for her to do so, while being tossed out of Cole's office. "And he had slammed the door in my face, before I could warn him. He's really pissed at me. I need you to tell Olivia."

"Why don't you tell her?"

A pause followed. "Because," Phoebe answered reluctantly. Then she sighed. "C'mon Paige, we're talking about my ex-husband's current wife. Besides, Olivia has a way of making me feel uncomfortable. Our private conversations don't always end on a pleasant note. At least for me."

"Phoe-bee!" Paige cried in despair. "Olivia is not going to bite you."

The middle Charmed One retorted. "Says you." Before Paige could respond with another retort, she sighed. "All right. I'll call Olivia. But just in case I can't reach her, could you call Cole?"

Paige agreed to her older sister's request. The two sisters hung up. Paige picked up the telephone and dialed the number to Cole's office. His assistant informed her that Cole had left for an important meeting and should return around two o'clock. Stymied, Paige had no choice but to hang up. And hope that Phoebe would reach Olivia.

----------

The red-haired witch heaved a frustrated sigh. She realized that she has hit a snag in the Jennings murder case. A witness of the murder of a local dentist had spotted a car leaving Dr. Jennings' office. Through the local Department of Motor Vehicles, Olivia learned that the spotted car came from the Enterprise Car Rental Service. But when she checked the car rental service for the identity of the customer, she discovered that the latter had used a false name. Even worse, the Enterprise employee had no memory of the customer's appearance.

It did occur to Olivia to lift fingerprints from the vehicle, which had been returned to the Enterprise lot. But three to four days had passed since Dr. Jennings' death. And the car rental service had lent the car to a new customer. Which meant that the company's mechanics and this new customer had manhandled the damn car, adding more prints. Olivia knew she would have to figure out another way to identify the dentist's killer. Only, she had no idea on how to achieve that goal. Perhaps another visit to Dr. Jennings' of . . .

The door to Darryl Morris' office swung open. Olivia's squad leader and occasional partner appeared in the doorway. "Hey! Turner! You have a call on Line 2. It's . . . Phoebe Halliwell."

Olivia stared at her colleague with disbelief. "Say that again?"

"It's Phoebe. And she says it's urgent."

_Urgent_? Olivia could only think of one reason why Phoebe would call her. Or one person. She picked up her telephone and selected Line 2. "Hello? Phoebe?"

The middle Charmed One heaved a relieved sigh. "Oh, thank God! Olivia! I am so glad I got through. I didn't know your direct number, so I called Darryl. Listen, I need you to get in touch with Cole. I think he's in danger."

Danger. _Cole Turner aka Belthazor in danger?_ Olivia could not fathom who would pose such a threat to her very powerful husband. "What do you mean?" she demanded. Olivia held her breath, as she listened to Phoebe's revelation about a vision foretelling Cole's death at the hand of a woman. Stabbed in the heart. Unfortunately, Phoebe's premonition did not connect a face to the hand. "Phoebe, when did you first get this premonition?"

A long silence followed before Phoebe explained that she had visited Cole's office. "It was about Holly McMillan. I . . . uh, I tried to convince him to drop the case."

_Oh Goddess!_ Olivia inwardly winced at Phoebe's ever continuing efforts to interfere in Cole's life. Before she could round on the other woman, Phoebe added, "Look, I now know it's the wrong thing to do. And that I had no business interfering in Cole's life. Paige made that perfectly clear. You see . . ." Again, Phoebe hesitated. ". . . when he . . . escorted me out of his office, I had the vision. Only I couldn't tell him. He . . . he's a little pissed at me, right now. And he won't take my calls. Olivia, you need to warn him. Tell him to go home or do something."

Again, Olivia found the idea of anyone – man or woman – being able to kill Cole. Until she recalled how she nearly killed him, while under a spell, last summer. Bruce, Paige and Harry's intervention had prevented her from succeeding. It seemed plausible that someone else had found a way to kill Cole. "All right," Olivia finally said. "I'll give Cole a call. And thanks . . . for the warning."

Phoebe murmured a quick "You're welcome." She paused before she continued, "Listen, could you do me a favor? Could you tell Cole that I'm sorry? About the way I . . . uh, came on to him?"

"Huh?" Olivia stared at the telephone handset in confusion. "Came on to him?"

Phoebe quickly explained, "About Holly McMillan. I was . . . trying to bully him into giving up the case." Olivia heard a gust of breath. "I guess I got so emotional over the matter that I forgot that Cole is just doing his job. And that I'm . . . well, not married to him anymore. And knowing what a good lawyer he is, I guess I feared that . . ."

Olivia interrupted, "Phoebe, why don't you speak to Cole yourself? I'm sure that he will listen?" _I hope_ Olivia silently added.

A loud sigh filled Olivia's ear. "I guess you're right," the Charmed One said. "Anyway . . . uh, thanks. But you'll tell Cole about my premonition?"

"Yeah, I'll tell Cole. See you later, Phoebe." With great relief, Olivia hung up. Seconds later, she reached her husband at his office. The moment she mentioned Phoebe's name, Cole went into a long rant.

The half-daemon expressed annoyance that his ex-wife would talk to his current wife about his client. "This is getting ridiculous!" he growled. "And I'm getting fucking annoyed. The next time Phoebe decides to interfere in my life . . ."

"Cole, Phoebe didn't call me about Holly McMillan," Olivia interrupted. She told Cole about Phoebe premonition. "I know you find the idea hard to believe. I did at first. But I kept thinking about Cecile's vision. You know, the one in which I was supposed to kill you. And I nearly did."

Cole sighed. Long and hard. "All right. So you and Phoebe think that some woman might kill me? What am I supposed to do? Go home?"

Olivia replied, "That's a good idea."

"C'mon Olivia . . ."

"Cole, please! Please . . . just to be safe."

In a slightly disgruntled voice, Cole grumbled, "If you insist. And by the way, uh . . . tell Phoebe thanks for me."

Olivia shot back, "Tell her yourself. She plans to call you later."

"Remind me not to take the call," Cole retorted.

Olivia dropped her head to the desk in mild despair. There were times when Cole could be a very stubborn bastard. "Phoebe wants to apologize, Cole. Could you at least give her that chance?"

A long and silent pause followed. Then Cole mumbled, "Yeah. Okay. Uh . . . look, I'll see you later."

"I might come home a lot earlier, today."

Cole's tone became slightly seductive. "Suddenly, the idea of going home early has become a lot more appealing. We use the scarves, when you get home?"

Olivia knew that Cole was referring to the Anduin Dimension scarves that she had received from Nathalie Green as a wedding present. The same scarves that she and Cole had used with great effect on their honeymoon. "Hmmm, I'll think about it."

"Think fast," Cole growled. "I'll see you later." Husband and wife bid each other good-bye before they hung up.

Olivia glanced up and found Darryl standing next to her desk. "I thought you were on the phone with Phoebe."

"I was. It seemed she had a premonition about Cole," Olivia explained. Then she told Darryl about the vision. "And I just told Cole. Both of us decided it would be best if he went home, early. You know, not take any chances."

Darryl frowned. "You really think that someone will be able to kill him?"

"I nearly did." Olivia gave Darryl a pointed stare. "Remember? And if I can find a way to kill Cole, I'm sure that some sorcerer or daemon can."

Nodding, Darryl added, "Which is why he's going home early today." He hesitated. "You want to join him?"

Olivia shrugged. "I was thinking about it."

"Maybe you should just go. You've been looking pretty tired all morning."

Olivia opened her mouth to protest. Until she realized that she did feel pretty exhausted. "Okay. I just need to finish up with a few things before I leave. Like the Jennings case."

"Okay. In my office." Darryl started toward it.

After grabbing the Jennings file, Olivia started to follow Darryl. Until she spotted a man sitting on the visitor's bench near the squad room's entrance. Despite his serene expression, he possessed a striking appearance thanks to his handsome – almost exotic – features and well-tailored suit. Olivia smiled at the visitor. "Excuse me, sir, but have you been helped?"

The man's almond-shaped eyes looked startled. Odd. "Uh . . . no. I mean, I'm not here for any help. I . . . I'm waiting. For someone. Lunch."

A quick glance at the squad's wall clock made Olivia frowned. "At eleven-fifteen? Rather early, don't you think?"

"Unfortunately, I have an appointment around one," the man said with a smile. "So . . ." There seemed to be a feral quality to his smile that left Olivia feeling slightly uneasy.

With a nod, Olivia replied, "Oh. Yeah. Um, have a nice lunch." Then she headed toward Darryl's office.

---------

The daemon's gaze remained fixed upon the red-haired witch, until she disappeared into her colleague's office. The uncanny resemblance between her and the warlock who waited for him outside of the police station astounded him. Despite the warlock's murder of the Gimle daemon, Klymus found it difficult to believe that his red-haired companion came from an alternate dimension. Until now.

Klymus glanced around the squad room to ensure that no one else had noticed him. Then he made his way to the witch's desk and dropped to one knee. He opened one drawer and found several computer discs, a compact hard drive and several pamphlets inside. A second drawer revealed a paperback book and several pencils. Klymus opened a third drawer and found two Glock pistols and a bully club. _Violent woman_, he thought. Then he reached for the fourth drawer. It refused to budge.

Perhaps it was time to use a little magic. Utilizing his telekinesis ability, Klymus attempted to open the fourth drawer. Nothing happened. Dammit! What in the hell did this woman do to . . .? Voices caught his attention. One of them belonged to the witch. Klymus teleported out of the squad room before he could get caught.

--------

Inside P3, Piper and Chris stared at Phoebe with disbelief. "Uh, Phoebe honey, are you sure that you're not mistaken?" Piper said. "About your premonition, I mean."

"Piper, have I ever been wrong?" Phoebe demanded.

Both Piper and Chris exchanged one long look. "Well," Chris began, "I can recall that time, four months ago, when . . ."

Sounding slightly irate, the middle Charmed One retorted, "Okay! So a few of my premonitions were off. But you can't say I was wrong to warn Cole."

Piper muttered, "I thought it was Olivia you had warned, since Cole wouldn't talk to you."

Phoebe glared at her older sister. "Piper! That's enough! What is it with you two? Why do you suddenly find it hard to believe one of my premonitions?"

Chris shrugged his shoulders. "C'mon Phoebe. We're talking about Cole. He's . . . well, he's very powerful. Isn't he? Even more powerful than Wyatt."

The whitelighter's comment drew a sharp glance from Piper. "What do you mean? That's never been confirmed."

"Piper, Cole was the only one whose powers weren't affected by Wyatt's birth," Phoebe reminded her sister.

"That doesn't mean he's more powerful than Wyatt."

Chris shot back, "He is. Trust me. In the future, Cole turned out to be the only one standing between the rest of us and Wyatt. Without him, Wyatt would have . . . well, you know." 

Both Phoebe and Piper exchanged uneasy looks. The Halliwells still found it difficult to imagine Wyatt as a major threat in the future. "Great," Piper mumbled. "My son becomes a danger to us all and Cole – of all people – becomes the only one strong enough to protect us. Unless someone kills him today. And I find _that_ hard to believe."

Phoebe added, "Don't forget the vision Cecile had about Olivia killing Cole. And it nearly happened, thanks to Leo."

"Don't remind me."

The middle Charmed One continued, "Look, if Olivia can find a way to kill Cole and Paige being able to strip him of his powers, who is to say that some demon or warlock has found a way to do either one?"

"But everything's fine now, right?" Piper insisted. "I mean . . . you did warn Olivia. Who must have warned Cole."

With a sigh, Phoebe replied, "I hope so. I only wish I could have identified that woman in my premonition. I wonder if it was Holly McMillan. Or someone impersonating her."

Piper rolled her eyes. "Oh please! I realize you think that this woman is guilty of murder. So do I, if I must be honest. But accusing her of being a demon or a warlock is going a bit too far. Don't you think?"

"Who's Holly McMillan?" Chris asked. The two sisters stared at him with incredulous eyes. "What?"

Again, Piper rolled her eyes. "Of course. You're a whitelighter. Naturally, you wouldn't know what's going on."

"But who is she?"

Phoebe coolly answered, "A woman who had killed her husband." She heaved a loud sigh. "Allegedly. Of course, it's only a matter of time when she's found guilty."

Piper shot back, "With Cole defending her? Yeah . . . right."

"Thanks for reminding me, Piper."

"Look Pheebs, even if Holly McMillan _was_ a demon – and quite frankly, I doubt it – I'm sure that Cole would have sensed it right away. I can think of only one woman close enough to get to Cole. And I can't see Olivia killing him. At least not now. Can you?"

_END OF CHAPTER 7_


	9. Chapter 8

"DOUBLE EMNITY"

**"DOUBLE EMNITY"**

_Chapter 8_

A barely patient warlock sat inside her rental car, across the street from the police station. Nearly twenty minutes had passed before the daemon teleported back inside the car. "Well?" she demanded?

Klymus heaved a sigh. "Sorry. I couldn't get her purse."

"Why not?" Olivia paused. "Did the other Olivia remain at her desk?"

According to Klymus, Olivia's counterpart had left her desk for several minutes. "I was able to search all of the drawers . . . except one. It was locked. I think she may have placed a spell on it."

Olivia frowned. "Why would she do that?"

"How would I know?" Klymus retorted. "You should know. You're . . . _her_."

A thought came to Olivia. "Wait a minute. I can think of a reason why she would cast a spell on her lock. She must have something hidden inside that particular drawer. Something valuable. Which is what I always do when I have something valuable on hand, when I'm at work."

Klymus demanded, "If you've done it before, what's the counter spell?"

A sigh left Olivia's mouth. "Forget it. The other Olivia is probably at her desk by now." She switched on the car's engine and drove away.

Two blocks later, Klymus demanded, "So, that's it? You're just going to give up like that?"

"I'm going to take a step back, rest and try to think of another way to get my hands on that staff," Olivia coolly replied. She stopped the car at an intersection. "Why are you so interested in me getting that staff?"

"I've been ordered to help you."

Olivia gave the daemon a long and penetrating stare. "And why is that? Why is Artemus so willing to help me, now that I know where the other Olivia lives?"

Instead of giving her an answer, Klymus merely squirmed in silence. Then he glanced at the window shield and said, "Green light."

Olivia continued to drive. Something about the daemon's reaction bothered her. Come to think of it, her difficulty in first meeting Artemus had struck her as odd. "You know, I get the feeling that your boss has some plan in motion." Artemus remained silent. "And he wants to ensure that I won't fuck it up for him. Am I right?" When Klymus failed to answer for the second time, Olivia pulled over to the curb . "Okay. That's it. You're gone. Good-bye."

"What?" Klymus stared at her in confusion.

"If you can't be honest with me, I don't need you around. I can't depend upon you."

Klymus retorted, "What do you expect? I'm a daemon! Heck, I wouldn't even depend to have you around me! Even Artemus is worried that you'll . . ."

Olivia gave the daemon a knowing look. "That I would do . . . what? Screw things up for him? Expose his location?"

A long silent moment followed before Klymus heaved a defeated sigh. "All right! Yes! I am here to keep an eye on you."

"What exactly does Artemus fear?"

"You mean . . . whom." Tersely, Klymus revealed the senior daemon's plans to become the new Source. Apparently, Artemus had escaped from the Stygian Abyss after discovering a prophecy regarding the old Source's death. Not only did Artemus require a certain item to become the new Source, this item happened to be located on a piece of property belonging to one of Cole's clients. "With Belthazor and the Charmed Ones around, his chances of getting that item are slim."

"Why?"

Klymus rolled his eyes. "What do you mean . . .?"

"I can understand why Artemus would be leery of the Charmed Ones," Olivia said. "But why would he fear a fellow daemon? Is Cole . . . this Cole that dangerous or powerful?"

The daemon hesitated. "Well . . . yes." He went on to reveal a fantastic tale in which Cole ended up possessed by the old Source. Unaware of what happened, the Charmed Ones killed the possessed Cole and he ended up in some dimension called the Wasteland. "I don't know how he did it," Klymus continued. "His human ancestry must have saved him from perishing in the Wasteland. But while there, he managed to collect a good number of powers that enabled him to escape. The belief is that when a daemon enters the Wasteland, his or her powers are immediately separated from the body before being consumed by some monster. Belthazor must have avoided being destroyed. And the powers he had collected made him more powerful than ever. More powerful than the old Source. If Artemus is to become the new Source, he would not last a day with Belthazor still alive." He paused.

"And . . .?" Olivia continued. "What else?" Klymus glanced sharply at her. "I can see it in your eyes. There is something else to this story."

Klymus sighed. "There is a prophecy regarding Belthazor . . . and his wife, the other Olivia. Aretemus does not want it to come true."

Olivia snickered. "Prophecy, huh? Looks like Artemus has a lot on his agenda." She shook her head. "I wish I could help, but I have . . ." Her eyes caught sight of a familiar figure and she nearly brought the car to a screeching halt.

"What the hell?" Klymus demanded.

The red-haired warlock barely heard him. Instead, she guided the car into a nearby parking space and switched off the engine. "Did you see the two men standing in the middle of an alley we had just passed?"

"Hardly," Klymus shot back. "What about them?"

Olivia climbed out of the car. So did Klymus. "I had recognized one of them," she answered. The pair walked toward the alley. "His name is Lee Ramos. In my dimension, he was an informant of mine, when I was a cop." The moment they reached the edge of the alley, Olivia held up her hand, signaling the daemon to stop.

"What the hell is this about?" Klymus demanded.

A cold smile curved Olivia's lips. "I've just found a way to get my hands on the Olivia's keys." Both she and the daemon peeked around around the corner and into the alley. They spotted the two men in the middle of some transaction. One of them was a stocky man, with short curly hair. The other possessed long blond hair and a mustache that drooped over a long jaw. "You see the man with the long, blond hair? As soon as I give the signal, kill him. But don't incinerate his body."

Klymus frowned. "What will be the signal?"

"You'll find out. C'mon."

The warlock entered the alley with daemon close at her heels. "Well, well, well," she cried out, surprising the two men. "If it isn't Lee Ramos!"

The dark-haired man gasped aloud. He quickly tucked his hands inside his jeans pockets. "Hey! Inspector! What brings you here?" he asked nervously.

Olivia approached Ramos. "Looking for you," she coolly replied. Her eyes briefly rested upon the blond man. "Something going on here?"

"Uh . . . nothing," Ramos assured the redhead. "Just . . . ah, ran into an old friend. That's all."

"Hmmmm." Olivia continued to stare at the blond man.

Ramos continued, "What can I do for you?"

Olivia returned her gaze to the informant and smiled. "Just stand there . . . and do nothing." Then in a lightning move, she flung out her hand and sent a stream of fire straight through the informant's chest. A smoldering hole now existed where his heart used to be. Ramos quickly crumpled to the ground.

"Oh shit!" the blond man cried. "He's dead! You just . . ." He gave Olivia a peculiar stare. "Hey lady! What the fuck are you?"

The warlock nodded. A second later, Klymus shoved a dagger into the blond man's chest. The latter joined his colleague in crime on the ground. Once Olivia verified the blond man's death, she searched his jacket and retrieved a cell phone from one of the pockets. "Here," she tossed the phone to the daemon. "It's time to call the police. Dial (415) 706-1239 and ask for Inspector Olivia Turner."

--

The witch leaned toward her computer screen and typed in the phrase - _MISHEWAL WAPPO_. The Yahoo search engine on her computer screen produced a list of web links on the subject. She clicked on the first link. At that moment, the telephone on her desk rang. She answered it. "Inspector Turner, SIU. May I help you?"

"Inspector Turner?" a distraught voice replied. "Are you Lee Ramos' friend?"

Lee Ramos? Olivia forgot about her Internet research project and focused her attention on the call. "Yes, this is . . . Lee's friend. What's wrong?"

The voice continued, "Oh God! Oh God! It's Lee! He's . . . he's dead! Oh God, it's weird! There's a hole in his chest!"

"Hole in his chest?" Olivia demanded, "What do you mean? Who is this?"

"I'm . . . uh, another friend . . . of Lee's. We, uh . . . we were supposed to meet near Powell and California," the voice continued.

Olivia sighed. She knew what this meant. Her informant Lee Ramos and this friend may have been involved in some kind of deal. Lee was known for trading in all kinds of illegal goods. Including drugs. "Again . . . who are you?"

The man answered, "My name is . . . um, Stan Marin."

The name did not strike a familiar chord within Olivia's memories. "And where did you find Lee?"

"In an alley near Powell and California. Look, do I have to stay here?"

Olivia coolly replied, "If you don't want the police searching this city for you . . . yes. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Marin said in a shaky voice, "Uh . . . yeah. Sure. See you." He quickly hung up.

As she slowly returned the phone onto the hook, Olivia wondered if Marin would remain with the body. She doubted it. Then she headed for Darryl's office. "I just received a phone call. One of my informants might be dead. A Lee Ramos."

"Sorry to hear that," Darryl replied. He glanced at Olivia, who remained silent. "What?"

Olivia gave him a meaningful stare. "This Stan Marin claimed that he had found Lee's body in an alley near Powell and California." She paused. "With a hole in his chest."

Darryl sighed. "I knew it had to be something." He stood up and grabbed his trench coat. "Let's go."

--

From behind a dumpster, Klymus and Olivia watched a group of uniformed cops, three plainsclothesmen and a few people from the Coroner's office gather around the two bodies. Klymus noticed that one of the plainclothes cops happened to be his companion's doppelganger. "Okay, she's here," he commented. "Now what?"

"Just wait and see," the warlock commented. "If I know me, I'll be drifting away from the group for more clues. Several minutes passed before Olivia Turner drifted away from the rest of the crowd. She walked toward another alley, adjacent to the one where they had left Ramos and his blond companion. "It's about damn time."

The warlock slowly walked away from the dumpster and headed toward her look-a-like. Klymus remained in his spot, as he prepared to witness what promised to be a most interesting encounter.

_END OF CHAPTER 8_


	10. Chapter 9

**"DOUBLE EMNITY"**

_Chapter 9_

Shaken by the death of her informant, Olivia wandered away from the others to search for more clues leading to the perpetrator. Seeing Lee's body with that charred hole in his chest had taken her offguard. The man may have been dishonest, but she had still liked him. Lee had been a witty and sharp man who provided a great deal of helpful information over the years.

What really shocked her was the nature of Lee's death. No normal human being or machine – to her knowledge – could have created that charred hole. The other body – identified by Darryl as one Jon Linderman – possessed a large stab wound in the heart. Which struck Olivia as normal. But that hole in Lee's chest! Who . . . or what had created . . .?

"Hey!" a female's voice hissed. "Olivia!"

The witch whirled around and drew her pistol in one smooth movement. She aimed it at a second figure, who turned out to be . . . her. _What the hell?_

The doppelganger continued, "Listen, I realize that this must seem odd . . ."

Using her telekinesis, Olivia sent the double flying toward the nearest wall, where she kept the latter pressed against it. "Who in the hell are you?" Olivia demanded in a harsh voice.

"I'm . . . Olivia. Olivia . . . McNeill," the doppelganger gasped.

Olivia shot back, "Wrong answer!"

"I'm still single!" the other woman cried. "I haven't married Cole, yet!"

A suspicion that this woman might not be a shapeshifter, niggled in the back of Olivia's mind. But she kept the other woman elevated above the ground. Olivia shot back, "Okay, so you're lacking a wedding ring. What are you doing with my face?"

The doppelganger continued, "My name is Olivia Jocelin McNeill. I come from an alternate dimension." She added sardonically, before Olivia could protest, "Please don't tell me that you know nothing about alternate dimensions or you have no idea of what it means."

That sardonic tone struck a very familiar chord within Olivia. Not surprising, since she has heard it numerous times over the years . . . coming from her own mouth. Just to be sure, she said, "Okay. If you are whom you say you are, tell me something . . . about ourselves."

The woman sighed. "Okay. Both of us were born on March 31, 1971. We had graduated from Baker High at the age of seventeen in 1988. Four years later, we received our Bachelor's degree in Law from Stanford University. Another two years after that, we received our Master's . . ."

Again, Olivia used her telekinesis to lift the woman even. "Sorry, but you need to be a lot more original than that."

Panic crept into the woman's voice. "Okay! Okay! Near the end of your sophomore year in high school, this girl named Prue Halliwell had talked the Drama teacher into passing you over for the lead in a school play for a friend of hers. You retaliated by casting a spell on her. Well, on her teeth, actually. Which is why she wore braces up to the first half of our senior year."

"And what else?" Olivia demanded.

With a sigh, the doppelganger added, "I . . . or perhaps _we_ had to pay for Prue's braces from our trust fund. And about a day or two ago, Cole . . . well, my Cole had told me that I have a freckle shaped like Australia on my left boob. Right above the . . ."

". . . nipple," Olivia finished in a whisper. Now that definitely sounded familiar. "Oh my God! You are me!" She finally lowered the other Olivia to the ground. "What are you doing here?"

The other redhead gravely replied, "To warn you. I believe that someone is here to grab the Aingeal staff. Your staff."

Olivia shook her head. "Wait a minute. That would mean this person who is after the staff is a McNeill or a descendant of the wizard Niaghallas." She paused and stared at the doppelganger. "One of our cousins is after the staff? Who?"

"Dear Cousin Fiona," the doppelganger replied. She referred to one of Olivia's cousins, with whom she had to compete in a ceremony for possession of the Aingeal staff, last summer. Fiona, who came close to becoming the staff's new bearer had not been pleased when Olivia finally acquired the honor.

Shaking her head, Olivia replied, "Are you speaking of Cousin Fiona . . . from this dimension?"

"No, she's from another dimension," the other Olivia replied. "A third dimension. She's certainly not from mine. Somehow, she must have been denied possession of the staff and wants any other version she can get her hands on."

An idea came to Olivia. "But in order for her to get the staff . . . she would have to kill us. Kill any version of Olivia. Is it possible . . .?"

"That she killed the Olivia from her dimension?" The doppelganger hesitated. She glanced away, as if unwilling to answer the question. Her reaction told Olivia all she needed to know.

"Oh Goddess! You mean to say that there is a third version of Olivia who's dead?"

The doppelganger said, "The family in her dimension must have denied her possession of the staff. It's not the first time it's happened. This Fiona tried to kill me in my dimension, but she failed."

"Wonderful!" Olivia retorted. "Anything else? How did you know that this third Fiona is in this dimension?"

The other redhead spoke of a dominion duke who had appeared before her, following Fiona McNeill Craig's arrival. "He gave me this." She held up an amulet with strange carvings on its sides. "This enables me to travel from one dimension to another. Of course, for this dimension, I had to enter via a specific spot."

Olivia continued to eye the amulet. "Interesting. That amulet looks familiar to me. But I don't recall from where." She glanced at her doppelganger. "What do you need me for?"

"To help find Fiona. To make sure that your staff is safe . . . and that it remains safe."

After a quick glance over her shoulder, Olivia replied, "Okay. I'll help you just as soon as I deal with this homicide." She paused, as an idea came to her. "Do you know anything about this?"

The doppelganger regarded her with confused eyes. "Know anything about what?"

"The two bodies in the other alley," Olivia said in a hard voice. "One of them is Lee Ramos. Is that name familiar to you . . . in your dimension?"

Green eyes widened in horror. "Oh my God! Lee is dead?" Then she shook her head. "What am I saying? It was bound to happen . . . knowing Lee."

"I'm not so sure in this case," Olivia said. "This Lee was found dead with a hole in his chest. Someone . . . had incinerated his heart."

The doppelganger regarded Olivia with suspicious eyes. "Wait a minute. I had nothing to do with that. I had followed you from the station. The only person I can think of . . ."

Olivia sighed. "Fiona. Of course. She probably killed Lee to lure me here. I'm sorry. My paranoia got the best of me. I keep forgetting that you're actually . . . me." She glanced around the alley. "I just hope that she's still not here."

"She might be on her way to wherever you live."

A derisive snort from Olivia followed. "And what is she going to do? Break in? I doubt it, considering that Cole has that apartment warded . . ." She broke off, recalling Phoebe's premonition. "Oh my God, Cole. Does Fiona have a shapeshifting ability?"

"No," the doppelganger replied. "But I'm certain that she knows a spell or two. Why?"

"Oh my God." Olivia inhaled sharply. "Listen, why don't you hide somewhere for a few minutes, while I finish up here. Then we'll go to my apartment."

A voice cried out her name. Darryl's voice.

The other Olivia suggested that she could go to the apartment to make sure that Fiona has not arrived. "I'll need your key."

Shaking her head, Olivia replied, "That's okay. I should be finished with this case before . . ."

Before Olivia had time to think, the doppelganger whipped out a Glock .29 pistol. The witch spotted a muzzler on the pistol's nozzle, before she felt a sharp pain strike her stomach. "Wha . . .?"

"Sorry," the other Olivia nearly whispered. Her face assumed a cold mask. She fired a second bullet, which struck the witch's chest. The pain had become unbearable for Olivia, as she sank to the ground.

Now lying on her left side, Olivia struggled to fight through the pain and haze. "Wha . . . why?"

"Because _I'm_ the one who wants the staff," the doppelganger coldly declared. "Our cousin Fiona – at least in my dimension – no longer exists, thanks to me." She knelt beside Olivia and forced the latter, flat on her back. She proceeded to remove the witch's keys, cell phone and service pistol. "I'll be needing these." Then she grabbed Olivia's right hand and removed the wedding ring. "Something tells me that I'll need this, as well."

Again, Darryl's voice cried out Olivia's name.

The doppelganger stood up. She aimed her pistol at the wounded police officer. "Shame. If only you had given me those keys."

---------

Just as she was about to shoot the witch for a third time, Olivia heard the sound of a bottle hitting the ground. The warlock whirled around and found a derelict staring at her. _Great!_ A witness.

"I . . . I didn't see nothing!" the tramp declared in a shaky voice. "Honest! I won't talk."

Olivia aimed her Glock pistol at the tramp. "Of course you won't." She shot him twice – in the heart and in the head. The man slumped to the ground.

Satisfied, Olivia returned her attention to her double. But as she whirled around to finish off the witch, she discovered that the latter had disappeared. _What the fuck?_

"Hey Olivia! Where are you?" The voice of the witch's partner grew closer.

Olivia signaled her demonic companion. The latter teleported beside her. "The witch got away. The other Olivia. And I don't know how."

"She teleported," Klymus explained. He spotted the tramp. "Who is that?"

Coolly, Olivia replied, "An inconvenient witness. Never mind him. Just get me out of here before someone sees us. Back to Cole's penthouse."

Klymus grabbed her arm. Seconds later, they materialized outside of the Turners' penthouse. "What if she's here?" the daemon asked. "Or Belthazor?"

"If the other Olivia was here, we would have seen her in this foyer," the red-haired warlock commented. "As for Cole . . . we'll see." She inserted the witch's key into the lock and turned it. It unlocked the door with ease.

Olivia signaled Klymus to wait in the foyer, while she entered the penthouse. "Cole?" She was greeted with silence. "Cole!" She turned to the daemon. "He's not here. Come in."

Klymus entered the penthouse. A low whistle escaped from his mouth. "Very nice! I always thought that Belthazor had good taste."

Olivia noticed a barometer that hung on the west wall. It was a Scottish piece made from rosewood. And it came from the late Georgian period. The warlock noticed that it was an exact replica of the one that hung in the New York penthouse she shared with her Cole. "Apparently, so does the other Olivia."

The daemon broke away and quickly rushed through the penthouse's numerous rooms. "Your doppelganger is not here. And I don't see the staff anywhere."

Olivia tried to imagine where she would place the Aingeal staff in its dormant state. Then she remembered. Her desk. Of course. "Look for a desk," she said. "It's a Louis XV Cylinder desk. Very expensive. I usually keep all of my valuables inside it. Like a safe."

"A staff inside a desk?" One of Klymus' brows rose questioningly. "Exactly how would that work?"

A sigh left Olivia mouth. "The staff is magical. Which means that it can shrink in size. Each Aingeal staff bearer can stretch it to its normal size just by holding it."

"So the other Olivia can do this?" Klymus asked.

"I mean . . . me. Now did you see that desk?"

The daemon replied that he had seen such a desk in the penthouse's study - opposite the master bedroom. He led Olivia to the room. Sure enough, an ornate 18th century Louis XV Cylinder desk stood against the south wall. Olivia had purchased one just like it in her dimension at a Parisian antique shop, seven years ago. She wondered if her counterpart used the same password to unlock this desk.

"The staff is kept inside this desk, huh?" Klymus muttered.

Olivia stared at the daemon. She realized that she no longer required his assistance. The uncomfortable expression on his lean face told her that he may have sensed her thoughts. "Uh . . . well, I guess it's time for me to leave."

"I believe so," Olivia replied. A brief smile touched her lips. "Thanks for the help. And offer my thanks to Artemus, as well."

Klymus' mouth opened briefly. Then he gave her a nod. "Well, good luck." He teleported out of the room, only to return flat on his back. "What the hell?"

"Cole's protection ward," Olivia explained with a slightly amused smile. "I'm afraid that you'll have to leave by the front door."

The daemon smiled weakly and left the room. Olivia followed. Once she closed the door behind him, she started to return to the study. She had not taken three steps when the living room telephone rang. The redhead hesitated before she answered. "Hello?"

"Hey! You're home!" Cole's soft voice was unmistakable. Olivia mentally found herself transported back to the Manhattan penthouse that she shared with her Cole. "I tried calling you at work, but no one answered. And I couldn't get through to your cell phone."

Olivia wondered if anyone had found her doppelganger's body, yet. In her most cheerful voice, she replied, "Sorry, . . . uh, Darryl and I had received a call. And phone needs charging. Is . . . there a reason why you're calling?"

Cole demanded, "Have you forgotten already?"

The warlock's heart lurched. _Oh shit!_ "Yeah . . . I guess so," she said weakly. "It's been a busy day."

"You too, huh? Listen, I should be home in another half-hour or less," Cole continued. "After I finish this brief meeting with Jackman."

With as much enthusiasm as she could muster, Olivia replied, "I'll be waiting." _Like hell, I will_, she added silently. The pair bid each other good-bye and hung up. Twenty minutes. Olivia figured she would be gone by then. She marched back into the study. Using the password that she had created in her dimension, she managed to unroll the cylinder that covered the desk. It did not take her long to find the staff. Made from , it had been reduced to a size small enough to place inside the desk. The staff possessed Celtic symbols carved into the wood. A gold knob, shaped as a dragon, held a red carnelian stone in its eye. Olivia felt a sense of triumph. _At last!_ Then she spotted a small notebook made from leather on the desk. Her other Book of Shadows. At least the one where she kept the most important spells and potions. Olivia wondered if her witch counterpart had created anything new. She opened the book and read it. One entry caught her attention . . . and gave her an idea. And idea that led her toward the penthouse kitchen.

-----------

"Olivia!" Darryl cried out his partner's name over again. "Olivia!"

_Dammit! Where in the hell was she?_ His red-haired partner had stepped away to find any further clues to Lee Ramos and Jon Linderman's killer. Only she had stepped away a minute or two longer than he expected.

Darryl turned the corner into another alley. He came upon a startling sight. Sprawled against a large garbage dumpster was a dead man. A derelict. From what he could see, the man had been shot in the chest and the forehead. Had Olivia shot the man? If so . . . why? And where did she disappear to?

Then Darryl spotted something else – splotches of blood several feet away from the dead body. He also discovered four shell casings. Darryl stared at the body. If the tramp had been shot twice, who had received the other two shots?

Fear rose within the detective's chest. Instinct told him that something had gone wrong. Something that pertained to Olivia. He removed his cell phone from his jacket. Just as he was about to dial a number, a second figure appeared in the alley. "Darryl? Have you found her?" Scott Yi approached him.

"No," Darryl tersely replied. "Just a dead tramp."

The younger man, who also happened to be a practicing sorcerer, stared at the corpse. "When the hell did this happen?"

"Very recently, I suspect," Darryl answered in a hard voice. "And Olivia is still missing."

Scott frowned. "You don't think she had shot him, do you?"

"Maybe. But look at this." Darryl pointed at the blood patches. "I don't think they belong to our corpse. And there are four shell casings in this spot between the dead tramp and the blood spots. Four shots."

Shaking his head, Scott pointed out, "But it looks as if your corpse had been shot twice. Who received the other two bullets? Olivia? And why didn't we hear the shots?"

Darryl sighed. "I don't know. Maybe we'll find out when we find Olivia."

_END OF CHAPTER 9_


	11. Chapter 10

**"DOUBLE EMNITY"**

_Chapter 10_

The moment Cole entered the penthouse, Olivia greeted him with a martini glass in her hands. "Welcome home! Martini?" She held out the glass.

A smiling Cole stepped forward and accepted the offered drink. Then he placed it upon a nearby side table. "Later. Right now, I just want to hold you." He enveloped his wife into his arms. As usual, she smelled of hot cinnamon. She let out a squeak. "Something wrong?"

"Cole, I have this drink in my hand," Olivia's muffled voice replied.

The half-daemon took the drink and placed it on the nearest table. "We'll drink later. Right now, I just want _you_." Before Olivia could utter another word, Cole lowered his mouth upon hers. She resisted . . . at first. And he found her actions baffling. But when she slid her arms around his neck, all doubts banished from the half-daemon's mind.

Over a minute passed before the couple's lips finally parted. Breathing heavily, Cole teased his wife. "Now, what were you saying about a drink?"

A sultry smile curved Olivia's mouth. "Absolutely nothing." She grabbed the back of Cole's head and guided it toward her. Once more, their lips met for another passionate kiss. Olivia parted her lips slightly, giving Cole the opportunity to slide his tongue between them.

Overcome by the play of lips and tongues, Cole felt his body grow hard. He swiftly lifted Olivia into his arms and carried her over to the sofa. Once he had plopped down, the redhead shifted her body around, until she ended up straddling his lap.

In their new position, the couple's kissing continued in earnest. Cole felt his wife's slim fingers slide through his hair. He surreptiously allowed one of his hands to cover a firm breast. Then Cole set about unfastening the buttons to her blouse. Once he had finished, his hand cupped what was now a warm globe of flesh barely covered by her bra's thin material. A slight moan escaped from Olivia's mouth. She wriggled slightly in his lap and he felt himself grow even harder. Whatever restraint he had possessed, no longer existed.

Cole quickly shrugged off his jacket. At the same time, Olivia's fingers unfastened his tie, before she began to unfasten his shirt buttons. Then their mouths met for another long and passionate kiss. A groan escaped from Cole's mouth, as her fingers caressed his nipples, causing them to immediately harden. During his own caresses, the half-daemon made a small, yet delightful discovery. Olivia wore a bra with a clasp in the front. With a flick of his forefinger, he unfastened the clasp. His eyes gazed upon a pair of deliciously familiar breasts. Like a greedy infant, Cole encircled one rose-colored nipple that quivered at the tip of Olivia's right breast and began to suckle. Olivia sighed . . . long and hard. He switched his attention to the other nipple. And once again, Olivia's response expressed her pleasure.

Olivia's nails dig into Cole's back, while he continued his ministrations upon her chest. Then he felt one slim unzip his trousers and slip inside. She gave his manhood a tug and a loud groan escaped from Cole's lips. "Olivia," he murmured, while she continued to caress him. Unable to hold his passion in check any longer, Cole flipped his red-haired wife on her back. Then he removed her shoes. She cried with pleasure, as he tugged at her pants off. As he prepared to remove his own pants, the telephone rang. The couple stared at each other and then at the living room telephone.

"Ignore it," Olivia said breathlessly.

"Right." Cole lowered himself on her, before gathering her into his arms for a deep kiss. The telephone rang several more times before it stopped. Cole kicked off his shoes. His mouth left Olivia's and moved to her slender neck. The telephone rang again. Only it came from Cole's trouser pocket.  


The half-daemon reluctantly removed his mouth from Olivia's neck. "It's my cell phone," he murmured.

Olivia turned slightly and planted a light kiss on the edge of Cole's mouth. "What about it?" She kissed him again.

"It might . . ." Cole broke off, as Olivia captured his mouth for another kiss. His cell phone continued to ring. Cole reluctantly ended the kiss. "Wait . . . a minute." He let out a gust of breath. "It might be an emergency." Reluctantly, he sat up and climbed off Olivia. "Just a . . . just a minute. Damn!" A pout threatening to form on her lips, Olivia heaved a big sigh. Cole reached inside his pocket for his cell phone. "Hello?"

"Cole?" the voice over the phone cried. "Thank God, I finally reached you!"

The half-daemon immediately recognized his ex-wife's voice. "Phoebe?"

The Charmed One continued, "My God, Cole! Aren't you home yet? Didn't Olivia tell you about my premonition?"

"Yes Phoebe, she did," Cole muttered in a slightly annoyed tone. "That's why . . . I'm at home. Now."

A sigh of relief filled Cole's ears. "Thank goodness! But . . . why didn't you answer your regular phone?"

Cole decided not to answer Phoebe's question. "Is there any other reason why you had called me?"

In a more subdued voice, Phoebe replied, "Oh yeah. Um . . . look, about my little rant against Holly McMillan, this morning – I'm sorry. She's your client and I had no business dictating how you should do your job. I'm . . . I'm sorry."

Cole felt satisfied with Phoebe's apology. Yet, he wished she had shown better timing in delivering it. "It's okay, Phoebe. Apology accepted. Listen, I was in the middle of . . . something. Can I talk to you later?"

"You're going to stay home for the rest of the day . . . right?" Phoebe insisted.

The half-daemon shot a glance at his wife, who stood next to the liquor cabinet. "Trust me, Phoebe. I have no intention of leaving this place for the rest of the day." He turned away. "And thanks for the warning."

"Yeah. Okay." Phoebe hesitated before she added warmly, "See you around, Cole."

Cole replied, "Bye Phoebe." He disconnected the line with a sigh. Time to return his attention to more important matters – like his wife. The half-daemon whirled around and found himself facing her. To his disappointment, she was fully clothed.

A smiling Olivia held up another glass filled with liquor. "Now, how about that martini?"

Darryl stood in the middle of the alley, shaking his head in consternation. "What in the hell happened to her?" he demanded in frustration. Scott merely shrugged. "I realize that she's a witch, but at least . . ."

A loud thump interrupted Darryl. It came from a nearby garbage dumpster. Both Darryl and Scott paused to exchange glances. "Did I just hear a noise?" the latter asked.

"Yeah," Darryl replied. "Coming from . . ." Another thump resonated. "Someone is in that dumpster." The pair rushed toward the object. They peered inside and found a bleeding and semi-conscious Olivia barely thrashing on a pile of garbage. "Oh my God!" Darryl exclaimed. "Olivia!" He started to climb aboard the dumpster. "How in the hell do we get her out of there?"

Scott shot an uneasy glance at the older man. "I could use magic. If you don't mind." The young inspector happened to be a well-trained sorcerer.

Darryl nodded. "Go ahead."

The younger man peered into the dumpster. He chanted something in Chinese. Seconds later, Olivia's bloodied body disappeared from inside the dumpster. They whirled around and spotted their colleague on the ground, still bleeding.

Darryl knelt beside the redhead to examine her. He could hear Scott summoning for medical help. Her shallow breathing, along with the amount of blood from her chest made Darryl wonder if anyone could help Olivia. "Olivia! Olivia! Can you hear me?" Darryl leaned forward to place his head near hers. "Who did this to you?" he demanded quietly. "What happened?"

Slowly, Olivia opened her mouth. More blood gushed out.

An anxious Scott said, "I don't think she's in any condition to talk." He shot a glance at the dumpster. "I wonder how she got into that dumpster."

Again, Olivia opened her mouth. Her breathing grew more ragged. "T-tel . . . leport. I . . ."

Darryl frowned. "Did you say . . ."

"I think she was trying to say that she had teleported," Scott added. "She must have used a spell."

A gurgle from Olivia followed. Darryl leaned toward her, again. "What? Olivia? Are you trying to say something?" A thought came to him. "Do you know who shot you? Olivia?"

More blood gushed out of Olivia's mouth. She moaned for several seconds, until she replied, "Me. Me shot . . . ano . . . another . . ."

Darryl and Scott exchanged confused looks. "What did she say?" the latter demanded.

"I think she said . . . _me_." Darryl shook his head in confusion. "Whatever that means. Look, you need to call for help. Get some paramedics over here."

While Scott summoned for help with a walkie-talkie, Darryl continued to attend Olivia. He used his handkerchief to wipe the blood from her lips. He also stroked her damp forehead. Then more blood gushed from her mouth. Darryl feared that she would have no more blood by the time help arrive. Fortunately, the paramedics finally appeared.

"Goddamn!" one of the paramedics cried. "This place has become a regular blood bath!" He glanced at the figure surrounded by trash cans. "Is that guy okay? He looks . . ."

Darryl replied sharply, "He's dead. She's not!" He pointed at the wounded Olivia.

"Okay." The paramedic and his partner set about treating Olivia. From what Darryl could gather from their call to a hospital, the red-haired witch was hemorrhaging badly. Even worse, a bullet may have severed an artery. Several members from the Coroner's Office arrived. While some of them took photographs, a coroner assisted the paramedics.

Finally, two ambulance drivers appeared with a gurney. They gently lifted Olivia's body upon it and began to carry it away from the crime scene. Darryl and the two paramedics followed. Scott remained behind with the corpse and the Coroner's Office members. When they reached the ambulance, Olivia was loaded into the vehicle. One of the paramedics climbed aboard. As Darryl began to follow him inside, the paramedic stopped him. "Sorry Lieutenant. You can meet . . ."

"I'm joining you," Darryl firmly insisted. He gave the paramedic a hard stare. The latter relented and Darryl climbed inside the ambulance.

The moment Cole turned away to answer his cell phone, the red-haired warlock felt a surge of anger. She was angry that Cole had interrupted a very enjoyable bout of foreplay. She felt angry that the person responsible for the interruption turned out to be that skanky bitch, Phoebe Halliwell. But what really burned Olivia was the fact that she had allowed herself to be distracted. She had forgotten that the Cole of this dimension . . . was not her Cole.

This Cole – the one who now spoke on his cell phone – was a powerful daemon who had abandoned his old life as a demonic assassin. This Cole had not been affected by the drug she had arranged for those British warlocks to feed him with in Scotland, last June. Yet, all this Cole had to do was kiss her and she completely forgotten her task.

Heaving a sigh, Olivia scrambled off the sofa. She quickly donned her pants and buttoned her blouse. Her eyes saw the untouched glass of Martini. The opportunity still remained for her to finish the job. Olivia snatched the glass from the side table near the door. She carried it to liquor cabinet. Then she prepared another glass of martini before pouring some of the first glass' contents into the second glass. She finished preparing a third glass of martini for herself just before Cole hung up.

Once Cole had ended his call from Phoebe Halliwell, Olivia held out the doctored drink. "How about that martini?" she said with a smile.

Cole frowned. "You got dressed?"

Olivia shrugged her shoulders. "You answered that phone call."

"Oh, I see. This is punishment."

Widening her smile, Olivia replied, "Consider this your chance to make up for interrupting some very promising sex. Starting with a drink." She handed the martini over to Cole. Then she saluted the half-daemon with her own glass. "Bottoms up."

Both Olivia and Cole took a sip of their drinks. Through narrowed eyes, the warlock closely observed the half-daemon. To her relief, he failed to notice anything odd about his martini. "Excellent," he proclaimed. "Quite good." He finished the rest of his drink. After placing his empty glass on the side table, he said, "Now . . . about finishing what we had started . . ."

"I haven't finished my martini," Olivia protested.

Cole slowly approached her, wearing a seductive smile that nearly caused Olivia's heart to flip. "Do you mean to say that you're more interested in that martin . . ." His expression suddenly changed before a gasp left his mouth. "What the . . .?" He clutched his stomach.

Olivia stared at him. "What's wrong? Cole?"

The half-daemon fell to his knees. "There's something . . ." He stared at Olivia with eyes wide with disbelief. "Wha . . . what did you . . . put . . . in my drink?"

"An onion," Olivia blithely replied. "As both of us usually prefer our martini." Cole cried out in pain, as a black cloud seeped out of his body. Olivia grabbed an empty glass bottle from the coffee table and held it out. The cloud immediately seeped into it. "And a power stripping potion. Considering your immense powers, I had to give it an extra kick."

Breathing heavily, Cole demanded to know why she had stripped away his powers. "Oh God! Either you're under a spell or . . . you're not Olivia." He spoke the last words in a whisper. "But you must be . . . her. You . . . Everything about you . . ."

"I am Olivia." The warlock used her telekinesis to force Cole flat on his back. He stared at her with sheer terror. She then kneeled over him, Straddling his waist. "I . . . am Olivia Jocelin McNeill. And I'm certainly not under a spell." She paused dramatically. Cole struggled to sit up, but Olivia telekinesis kept him pinned to the floor. "I'm from another dimension. An alternate dimension. In my world, I'm a warlock. As for your Olivia," she removed an object from her pants pocket, "I had put one bullet in her chest and another in her gut about less than an hour ago." She pressed a button on the object and a stiletto snapped upward. "I believe she should be dead by now. And you're about to join her."

Without any further hesitation, Olivia plunged the stiletto into Cole's heart. The former half-daemon shuddered for a few seconds, while blood poured from his heart and mouth. Then he laid still. Olivia leaned forward to check his pulse. Dead. She smiled. Mission accomplished.

The ambulance conveying both Darryl and his seriously wounded partner raced along Clay Street. The police lieutenant looked on in silent anxiety, as the paramedic struggled to keep Olivia alive.

Then Olivia's body began to shudder, taking both men by surprised. The nearby electrocardiogram monitor began to beep erratically. "What's wrong?" Darryl demanded. "What's going on?"

"Dammit!" the paramedic cried. "She's going into cardiac arrest!" He pulled back Olivia's already opened blouse, fully exposing her blood soaked chest. Then he reached for the defilibrator pads. Before the paramedic could add cream to them, the monitor screeched into a long beep. He leaned back and sighed. The ambulance came to a halt. "She's gone, Lieutenant."

A horrified Darryl stared at the paramedic. "That can't be. You didn't even try to . . ."

"She . . . is . . . gone . . . Lieutenant! Dead!" The doors flew open, revealing the two ambulance drivers and a hospital nurse. The paramedic shook his head. "She's gone. Went into cardiac arrest. Time of death around three twenty-eight."

Darryl glanced down at the pair of green eyes now devoid of life. He dropped his head into his open palms, wondering how he was going to tell Cole and the McNeills the bad news.

_END OF CHAPTER 10_


	12. Chapter 11

**"DOUBLE EMNITY"**

_Chapter 11_

_"We've got some news."_

Jack, Gweneth and Elise McNeill glanced up from the television set inside McNeill manor's the blue drawing-room. Before them stood Bruce and Barbara, who looked as if they were bursting with a secret. "What news is that?" Jack asked.

The young couple walked over to stand beside the television set. Jack switched it off with a remote. "It's about Barbara's visit to the doctor, yesterday."

Jack's mother inhaled sharply. "Oh Goddess!" She broke into a wide smile. "Oh! I'm so happy for both of you!"

"Happy about what?" Jack demanded.

Gweneth rolled her eyes. "For heaven's sake, Jack! Don't you know?" She stood up and enveloped Bruce into a hug. Then she hugged Barbara. "Oh darlings! I can't believe it!"

"Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" Jack exclaimed.

Bruce stood before his father. "Barbara is pregnant, Dad."

"Ten weeks," Barbara added. "The baby is due in late September."

The news left Jack feeling flabbergasted. Following Bruce and Olivia's weddings, he had considered that he might end up as a grandfather within at least two years. He simply had not expected to become one so soon. "Oh! Um . . ." He let out a gust of breath. "Wow! This is a surprise." He hesitated for a brief moment before he allowed himself a smile. "Well, congratulations, you two! I guess I'm going to be a grandfather!" He hugged the happy couple.

"I know how you feel, Dad," Bruce added. "I'm still shocked that I'm going to be a father. And I've known about the baby since lunchtime."

The door swung open. A very pale Davies stood in the doorway. "Pardon me, Mr. McNeill. You have a visitor." The manservant stepped aside, revealing a very tense looking Darryl Morris.

"Darryl," Gweneth greeted politely. "What are you doing here?"

The police lieutenant opened his mouth, but not a sound came out. Jack noted his haggard expression . . . and his slightly damp eyes. An uneasy feeling gripped Jack. "Darryl, is there something wrong?" He noticed that someone was missing. "Where is Olivia?"

Darryl heaved a deep sigh. "Uh . . . I've got some bad news. Olivia is dead."

--

Paige and Harry descended the staircase leading into P3's main room. "Hey guys! Anyone here?" Paige cried.

Both Piper and Phoebe emerged from the club's office. "It's about time you got here." Piper carried Wyatt in her arms. "I need you to take Wyatt home. Phoebe had promised to help me open the club, tonight."

"Does that mean I have to babysit again?" Paige demanded. "Harry had promised to take me to the movies, tonight. He's already bought the tickets."

Harry explained, "I bought them on the Internet. We're going to see _"HILDAGO"_.

"Oooo!" Phoebe exclaimed. "Viggo Mortensen!"

Piper, on the other hand, did not seem impressed. "Can't you take Wyatt with you?"

Both Paige and Harry stared at the oldest Halliwell in disbelief. "You want me to take a year-old toddler to a movie? Why can't Phoebe . . .?"

Before Phoebe could respond, Piper said, "I need her help to open the club."

Paige had a suggestion. "What about Leo?"

"Can't reach him," Piper retorted. "As usual."

"Chris?"

Phoebe shrugged. "We can't reach him, either." Then she muttered in a _sotto_ voice, "The coward."

"What did you say?" Paige asked.

"Nothing."

Harry added, "What about Cole and Olivia? Or my parents?"

Piper hesitated. "Hmmm, maybe Cole and Olivia won't mind. I'll give them a call."

At that moment, Harry's cell phone rang. He broke away from the sisters to answer the call.

Meanwhile, Paige suggested that she and Harry take Wyatt off Piper's hands. "And maybe drop him off at Cole and Olivia's place. Hopefully, they won't mind looking after . . ."

_"WHAT??"_ The cry came from Harry. The three sisters saw him lean against the bar, looking very upset. "Oh . . . oh God! No!" Then to their surprise, he began to cry.

Paige started toward her boyfriend. "Harry?" She saw tears rolling down his cheeks. "Harry, what's wrong?"

The redhead sniffed several times before taking a deep breath. "That . . . was um, . . . that was Bruce." He snatched a napkin from the bar and wiped his eyes. "Um . . . Darryl came by the house. It seems . . ." His voice began to crack. "God, I can't . . . I can't believe it."

Paige grabbed hold of his arm. "Harry, what was Darryl doing at your house?" she asked softly.

Harry took another deep breath. "Olivia is . . . dead. She was shot . . . and killed . . ." He broke off and began to cry.

At first, Paige was stunned by the news. "Wha . . . what are you . . .? Olivia's dead?" She could not believe it. It just did not seem possible.

"Did you say that Olivia was dead?" Piper demanded softly. "Oh God." Both she and Phoebe regarded Harry with disbelief. "How . . . how is that possible?"

After a long, silent pause, Harry revealed what happened. He had learned from Bruce that Olivia, Darryl and Scott had responded to call about two bodies found in an alley off Powell Street. Olivia broke off from the group to search for more clues in an adjacent alley, when she surprised the perpetrator. The latter shot her twice – once in the chest and in the stomach. A tramp had also been killed. Olivia died in an ambulance on the way to a hospital.

"Oh my God!" Phoebe exclaimed. She looked visibly upset. "Does Cole know?"

Harry shook his head. "No one has told him, yet," he said in a hoarse voice. "I was . . . I'm going to see him, now and tell him . . ." He began to cry again. Paige – also on the verge of tears – enveloped him into a tight hug. Tears began to fall from her eyes.

"Do you . . . do you want me to join you?" Paige said between sniffs.

This time, Harry nodded. "If you don't mind."

Phoebe added, "Maybe I should come along. Cole might . . . he's not going to take this well. If that's okay with you."

Again, Harry nodded. "Yeah . . . thank. I . . . thanks."

--

The cell phone inside Klymus' right jacket pocket rang, taking him by surprise. He retrieved the phone and answered it. "Hello?"

"It's me, Olivia McNeill." The daemon recognized the red-haired warlock's voice. "I've got the staff."

Which meant that she no longer required his help. Damn! Klymus had hoped to spend a little more time with the mortal. "So . . . why are you telling me?" he demnanded.

"I've left a package for your boss," the warlock continued. "Inside the penthouse. You should find it on the living room computer keyboard.

A certain half-daemon popped into Klymus' thoughts. "Wait a minute. What about Belthazor? Did he ever . . .?"

A cool voice interrupted. "You won't have to worry about him. Trust me."

"Yes, but . . ."

The warlock heaved an exasperated sigh. "Klymus, I suggest that you haul ass to that penthouse. Before someone else shows up and learn about Artemus' identity. Good-bye." The line went dead.

Klymus heaved a sigh and shoved his cell phone back into his jacket. Despite his trepidation that the McNeill warlock may have set a trap, Klymus teleported to the foyer outside of the Turner penthouse. He glanced at the door and noticed that it was slightly ajar. The daemon hesitated. Should he enter? Had the McNeill woman set a trap? Klymus took a deep breath and opened the door. Slowly.

Inside, he found the penthouse's living room just as he had last seen it . . . neat, and well furnished. Except for a martini glass that sat on a coffee table. The daemon saw the other glass on the floor – next to a pair of legs that protruded from behind the sofa. Klymus slowly walked around it. His eyes widened at the sight of Belthazor's body sprawled on the floor.

The daemon knelt beside the body. He felt for a pulse. Nothing. The half-daemon was obviously dead. Then he spotted the stab wound in the chest that obviously came from a stiletto knife. When did the McNeill warlock have such a weapon?

Assured that Belthazor was finally dead, Klymus stood up and walked toward the computer on a wide desk. He found a large, yellow envelope situated on top of the keyboard. As he reached for it, Klymus heard voices from beyond the front door. The daemon snatched the package and teleported out of the penthouse.

--

Seconds earlier, Paige, Harry and Phoebe orbed into the foyer between the elevator and the Turners' penthouse. Harry wiped away more of his tears. Paige gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. Meanwhile, Phoebe took a deep breath and leaned forward to ring the doorbell. Only her eyes spotted something amiss. Namely the fact that the door was open. A sense of danger tingled at the back of her neck. "Uh . . . something's wrong, guys."

"What?" Harry demanded in a heavy voice.

Phoebe touched the door. It swung open. "Oh my God," she muttered. "Something's wrong." She stepped inside the penthouse, crying out for her ex-husband. "Cole? Cole, where are you?" She strode past the living room and headed toward the master bedroom. It was empty. "Cole?"

Then she heard Paige cry out, "Oh my God! Phoebe!" The middle Charmed One returned to the living room and found both Paige and Harry standing behind the sofa. Both looked very upset. Paige opened her mouth. "Phoebe, I . . ."

Phoebe strode over to where the other two stood. "What's wro . . .?" She glanced down at the body, sprawled at her feet. "Oh God! Cole!" She knelt beside her ex-husband. "Cole?" She felt for his pulse . . . and sensed nothing. Not even a vision of his killer. Vivid blue eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling.

"He's dead, Phoebe," Harry whispered slightly. "Someone must have stabbed him in the chest . . . after stripping away his powers. Phoebe?"

--

A soft knock on his office door distracted Artemus from his telephone call. The door opened and Prax burst into the office. "Artemus, you have . . ."

The older daemon held up one hand. Prax fell silent. Then Artemus finished the conversation. "No more excuses, Argoth. Unless any of you have results, don't bother contacting me." He slammed the receiver on the telephone and muttered an oath. "Damn alchemists! What good are they?" He leaned back into his chair and sighed. "What is it, Prax?"

"Klymus is back, sir," Prax announced.

"Well, send him in."

Seconds later, the Inuyasha daemon entered the office. He carried a large, yellow envelope. "The warlock is gone, Artemus. The McNeill woman. I believe that she has returned to her dimension."

Artemus sighed. "I'm happy for her. Did she get her staff?"

"Yes sir."

"Good." A thought came to Artemus. "Did she come into contact with anyone in particular?"

Klymus hesitated. "Well . . . yes sir. She was in contact with both Belthazor and his wife. They're . . ."

_Of all the incompetence!_ "And you didn't bother to stop her? Klymus, you . . ."

"They're dead, Artemus."

The younger daemon's words stopped Artemus in mid-rant. He stared at the former. "Say that again?"

"Belthazor and his wife." Klymus let out a gust of breath. "They're dead. The warlock had killed them both."

Prax's words rang with disbelief. "You're lying!"

Klymus ignored Prax's accusation and explained that he had witnessed Olivia Turner's shooting at the hand of her doppelganger in an alley off Powell Street. "Gunshot to the stomach and chest. She died on the way to a hospital. I saw the body there. Belthazor had been stabbed in the chest. I believe Ms. McNeill had stripped away his powers before killing him."

_Belthazor's powers._ "Where are his powers?" Artemus demanded.

Klymus' eyes grew wide with fear. "Oh. I . . . I guess _'she'_ has them. But she had left this behind for you." He handed Artemus the yellow envelope.

Artemus opened the envelope and removed a CD-disk and a smaller white envelope. He placed the disk inside one of the computer's drives and activated his Windows Media function. Seconds later, the familiar image of a certain redhead appeared on the computer screen.

"Good afternoon, Artemus," a smiling Olivia McNeill greeted. "If you're watching this, then you know that the other Olivia and Cole are dead and I finally have the Aingeal staff. I would like to thank you, Prax and especially Klymus for the assistance. And as a sign of my gratitude, I have left two gifts inside the white envelope – two spells that you might find interesting."

Aretemus paused the recording and opened the envelope. He found two sheets of paper. One of them possessed the ingredients for a power stripping potion – which he suspected that Ms. McNeill had used on Belthazor. The other sheet contained the instructions for a vanquish. Artemus' heartbeat increased. He wondered if this was the spell created by the late Olivia Turner that nearly killed Belthazor, last summer. He resumed the recording.

"If you don't mind, I would like to give you a piece of advice," the red-haired warlock continued. "I'm certain that you plan to go after the Charmed Ones. I doubt they would allow you to remain alive, once they learn that you intend to become the new Source. If so, I suggest that you kill them . . . one by one. You could use that vanquishing spell and kill the three of them at the same time. Apparently, my doppelganger had nearly killed her Cole with this spell, sometime before their marriage. I would have loved to learn how that came about. Whatever method you plan to kill them . . . it's your choice. Killing them one at a time was merely a suggestion." Ms. McNeill glanced away from the camera. "Anyway, it's time for me to go. I . . ." She paused, as an impish smile curved her lips. "I bet you're still wondering who is the new Source in my dimension, aren't you?"

The thought had crossed Aretemus' mind, but he remained silent.

The warlock continued. "Let me put it to you this way. Once my Belthazor and I have finished, the Power of Three will no longer exist . . . at least in my world." Her smile brightened. "Good luck and have a nice day." The computer screen went blank.

A stunned Artemus slowly clicked off the Windows Media function. He leaned back into his chair with a gust of breath. "Did she just say that the Charmed Ones ruled the Source's Realm in her world?" Prax demanded.

"She did, indeed," Artemus replied quietly.

Prax asked, "Now that Belthazor is dead, what do we do about Mark Giovanni?"

Artemus sighed. "To be honest, we no longer need Mr. Giovanni. With Belthazor gone, the protection ward around the property no longer exists. Have some of our members start searching the ground for the object in question. If Mr. Giovanni raises a fuss, Klymus shall kill him."

The young daemon nodded. "What about the Charmed Ones? Shall I go after them?"

"No. Leave them to me." Artemus picked up the white envelope. "Thanks to Ms. McNeill, I have an idea on how to deal with the witches. And with that brat that belongs to the oldest sister. I must say, Prax . . . that is one amazing young woman."

Doubt crept into Prax's voice. "Do you think that the McNeill warlock will be successful in becoming co-ruler of the Source's Realm?"

Artemus allowed himself a small smile. "Prax, Ms. McNeill had managed to kill a powerful daemon, a powerful half-daemon, a powerful witch and anyone else in less than two days. I would say that her chances were more than good. Wouldn't you?"

_END OF CHAPTER 11_


	13. Epilogue

"DOUBLE EMNITY"

**"DOUBLE EMNITY"**

_Epilogue_

_**Manhattan, New York; Alternate Dimension**_

Cole Turner aka Belthazor shimmered inside the Manhattan penthouse that he shared with his girlfriend and heaved a sigh of relief. Home. At last. He walked over to the liquor cabinet and prepared a glass of bourbon for himself. He needed it. Today had been a difficult day.

Aside from his relationship with Olivia, the past two years had been difficult. It had all started at a gala held to celebrate the first six months on the throne by the Realm's new leaders. Cole had the misfortune to catch the eye of one of his leaders – namely one-third of the entity known as the Source.

Many of the Realm's subjects continued to reel over the knowledge that they were being ruled by three former witches. The exalted Charmed Ones had become warlocks nearly three years ago. Another ten months passed before they ended up killing the old Source. Many had expected another upper-level daemon to assume the throne . . . not three former witches-turned-warlocks. And unfortunately for Cole, the youngest sister ended up becoming quite taken with him. He found himself becoming Phoebe Halliwell's personal stud.

The only bright spot in Cole's increasingly dismal life turned out to be one Olivia McNeill. He had first met the red-haired warlock during a brief holiday in the Melora Dimension, three months after his life as a gigolo had commenced. Like the Halliwells, she was a former witch who eventually became a warlock. Even more remarkable was the fact that all four had even shared the same whitelighter. Cole found himself becoming attracted to the redhead. She was exciting, brilliant, and possessed a mischievous nature that he found a breath of fresh air. Aware of Phoebe's abilities as a seer, Cole wore a charm to ensure that she would never learn of his relationship with Olivia.

The half-daemon took a swig of his bourbon. Less than two days had passed since Olivia's trip to an alternate dimension and he missed her. Cole never figured that he would fall in love with anyone, let alone a former witch. For years, his mentor – Raynor – had taught him that evil did not fall in love. They were incapable of falling in love. But when Cole met Olivia, he found himself completely enamored. He tried to dismiss his feelings toward Olivia as a by-product of human ancestry. Until his mother pointed out that his grandparents, who had been amongst the Source's most ruthless demonic assassins, had been completely in love with each other.

Cole's relationship with Olivia made it increasingly difficult for him to endure being a demonic stud for one of the Realm's leaders. Either Olivia had to get her hands on the Aingeal staff, or three situations might happen. One, Phoebe Halliwell would learn about Olivia. Two, he and Olivia might be forced to seek asylum in another demonic realm – one that was equally powerful. Or three, he could consider suicide. Since Cole did not consider himself the suicidal type, he realized that he might end up facing the first two situations. Unless Olivia managed to get her hands on that staff.

The rich aroma of roasted meat caught Cole's attention. He headed toward the dining room alcove, where he found gleaming silverware laid out on an elegantly decorated table. Olivia had returned. Cole glanced around him. "Olivia?" He walked away from the dining table and returned to the living-room. "Olivia, are you . . .?"

She finally emerged from the hallway and greeted Cole with a wet kiss on the mouth. The half-daemon noticed that she wore that slinky aquamarine sheath dress that accentuated every curve on her body. Olivia also wore matching sandal pumps. "So, how was your day?" she purred. She planted a light kiss on his mouth.

Cole sighed. "Difficult. I had spent the better part of the day avoiding my tormentor. I'm seriously considering finding her another boy toy to play with."

Olivia's mouth curved into a wide smile. She almost resembled the Cheshire Cat from _"Alice in Wonderland"_. "I don't believe that will be necessary."

For a brief moment, Cole contemplated his lover's words . . . and expression. Then realization finally struck him. "You've got it, don't you?" he said. "The staff."

Olivia's smile widened. "That . . . and a lot more. Did you check out the dining table?"

"Yeah. It looked nice."

The redhead rolled her eyes and grabbed Cole's arm. She dragged him to the dining table. Nothing had changed in the past few minutes. Then Cole's eyes caught sight of an object made from pale wood. "That can't be the staff . . . or could it?"

"It is." Olivia further explained that the staff magically stretches into full length when she holds it. "It has definitely accepted me as its bearer." Then she gave Cole's forearm a tight squeeze. "What else do you see?"

Cole's eyes scanned the table. He spotted a small glass bottle standing to the right of the floral centerpiece. Black smoke swirled inside. "What in the hell is that?" he demanded. "Inside the bottle."

Olivia walked over to the table and picked up the bottle. "Belthazor's powers."

"Is this a joke?"

"No," Olivia replied coolly. "Inside this bottle are the powers of Belthazor from the other dimension. I stole them from him."

Cole stared at the bottle. "Why?"

"Do you remember me telling you about what in Scotland? About how that sleeping draught was supposed to knock out the other Cole, so that those warlocks could kidnap the other Olivia without any opposition? But all it did was make him groggy? Well, I found out why." Olivia revealed a fantastic tale about the other Cole being possessed by the Source, killed by the Charmed Ones and ending up in the Wasteland. "And when he had escaped from the Wasteland with his new powers, he ended up more powerful than ever. More powerful than the Source."

The half-daemon frowned. "So . . . if you managed to get the other Cole's powers, what happened to him?"

Olivia sighed. "Um . . . I'm afraid he's dead. Sorry, but I had to kill him. I couldn't take the chance of him finding a way to get his powers back. Even if he was from another dimension." She did not sound very remorseful. Not that Cole cared. "And I also had to kill the other Olivia," the redhead continued. The announcement shocked Cole. "Well, it was the only way I could get inside their apartment and get the staff. The damn place was warded against any possible break-in."

Cole continued to stare at his lover, as the depth of her murderous actions finally struck him. Then he threw back his head and laughed. He laughed at the irony that Raynor had been wrong about humans all that time. Especially since his very human girlfriend had just proven that she could be as ruthless and deadly as most of his demonic colleagues. When his laughter finally subsided, Cole asked one last question. "By the way, why haven't you used the powers for yourself?"

A long pause followed. Olivia's face turned slightly pink. "Oh. Well, I guess I could have done just that, couldn't I?" Then she sighed. "But you know what? I guess I'm just a sucker for love." Her green eyes bored into Cole's.

The half-daemon found himself captivated by the beautiful redhead's loving gaze. He felt a great warmth wash all over him. Regardless of whether she was the epitome of evil or not, he could not help but love every inch of her. He drew Olivia into his arm. "What do you know?" he murmured. "So am I." Cole lowered his mouth upon hers.

Olivia quickly broke off the kiss, protesting. "Cole! I might drop this bottle!"

"Let it drop." The half-daemon kissed Olivia again. This time, she did not bother to resist. As she slipped her arms around his neck, the small bottle slipped out of her grip and smashed on the hard floor. A black smoke curled upward and slowly engulfed the couple locked in an embrace.

**THE END**


End file.
